Count by Sensation
by VulcanChicks
Summary: When Layton tries to return to his normal life as a teacher, he is confronted by his toughest and most puzzling case yet: what does it take to be a father? LaytonxClaire LukexFlora OCxOC Co-written with Otakubox, redspiral32. Minor spoilers. CHAPTER 6 UP
1. Made Unbreakable

Chapter 1: Made Unbreakable

Luke sat in the passenger seat of the Professor's car, which the young boy affectionately called the Laytonmobile, listening to the gentle humming of the motor, his mind wandering. Only a few hours before, the Professor had announced that they were going to the heart of London.

"Luke, my boy," he had told him, "there's something that has been bothering me."

"Is it puzzle, Professor?"

Laughing, he replied, "Not quite. But I suppose you could call it a puzzle of sorts. And to solve it, we'll need to return to London."

"Got a lead?" Luke had asked, his eyes shining with excitement.

He had chuckled and nodded. "Go get Flora and pack your things. We will be leaving as soon as you two are ready!"

Laughing eagerly, he replied, "Yes sir!"

Layton had ruffled his hair and shooed him to the door. "That's my boy," he said, smiling gently.

Collecting his thoughts, Luke stared out the window, letting them float out into the breeze flowing through the opening. Flora was being unusually quiet, giving off the air of being pensive and upset, and he had a pretty good idea of what was troubling her.

He frowned and leaned his head on his fist. Although she wasn't a typically loud girl, this silence was heavy and almost intimidating, quite unlike the serene feel it usually had. If he were unlucky enough, he might end up provoking her to the point where she might hit him. It _had_ happened before.

He decided to speak up. "Hey… Flora…?"

"I'm _not_ talking about it," she snapped back, causing Luke to jump up in his seat in surprise.

It was strange. More and more often it would seem as though she anticipated everything he was going to say before he said it. Only last week he had walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water while she was preparing some sort of meal. Luke had stared in shock as she pulled mayonnaise, jelly, cake batter, and fish, among other things, out of the pantry and refrigerator. He stayed silent.

As if only noticing he was there just then, Flora turned and gaped at him. Within seconds, her face twisted into an angered grimace. "You think I can't cook? Is that it?" she shrieked, slamming a jar of peanut butter on the table. Face red, she stormed out of the kitchen.

It was indeed true. She couldn't cook if her life depended on it. Though with all his years in his apprenticeship with Professor Layton, he knew it was ungentlemanly to think poorly of a lady—or at least let her _know_ you were thinking poorly of her—so he tried his hardest not to let her know what he thought of her cooking, to keep on a straight face or an approving smile as not to upset her. It never worked.

The Professor frowned slightly, not being particularly eager to step in. It wasn't all that long ago that Luke came to him seeking an explanation for the girl's odd behavior. But as much of an honest gentleman he was, he still preferred not to discuss what makes females act the way they do, particularly in this delicate stage of development.

With as little detail as possible, he had told Luke that Flora was changing, and that it was really nothing to worry about. After all, everyone, regardless of gender, begins to change somewhere around her age. The mood swings would come and go, and eventually, she would be back to her usual cheery and gentle self.

_I only hope that time isn't too far off_, he thought to himself. _I don't know how long I can hold back Luke's curiosity._

As if on cue, the boy looked up at him. "How much longer till we get there, Professor?"

His frown melting away at the reminder of Luke's naturally sunny disposition, he looked over at him from the corner of his eye and chuckled. "Not much longer at all," he replied, pulling into a parking area. Pushing the gear shift into park, he continued, "Our first stop is Gressenheller College."

Luke peered excitedly out the window at the large building. "Professor," he said, unbuckling, "isn't this where you teach when you're not out on one of your adventures?"

"The very same, my boy," he responded. He left the car, and the boy joined him, leaving Flora to follow silently behind, her mood still clearly quite foul.

As they were led through the halls, Luke stayed very close behind Layton, at times clinging to his jacket when a large group of students would pass by. Every now and then he would look back at Flora to see if she was still there, and every time, she shot him a frustrated glare, putting him even more ill at ease.

_I really don't see what she's so upset about, _the boy thought to himself. _I did _see_ her diary, but I didn't _read_ a word of it! She snatched it back too quickly for that._

At that point, Layton had begun talking to an older man, asking for the whereabouts of a certain Alan Scottsborough. Had he not been caught up in his own puzzle at the moment, Luke would have been more focused on asking the Professor why he was searching for this man.

_What is it that she needed to keep from me so badly? _Luke looked back at a simmering Flora. _I'm with her every day! What is there that I don't know? _He swallowed, turning his back to her once again. _Unless it has…_ Luke's heart skipped, and his cheeks felt significantly warmer. _What if it's got something to do with me…? What if she—_

His thoughts were cut off by the sudden feel of cold air between his hat and his hair. Throwing his hands up to cover his head, he spun around to see a red-faced Flora wringing his blue cap between clenched fists.

"What was that for?!" Luke protested, lunging toward her to grab the hat.

She swiftly pulled it out of his reach. Flora stood there in a stubborn silence, her angered frown deepening as well as the color on her cheeks. In one firm motion, the girl pulled it onto her head, holding it securely by the brim.

Luke continued to grab for his hat, reach over her shoulders and shout at her. It was safe for him to assume Layton wouldn't want to discuss his rude behavior in front of his colleagues, but the boy was determined to retrieve the hat all the same.

However, one thing caught his attention as he wrestled for it. Flora had appeared to be enjoying herself; an amused smirk had appeared on her lips, and for a moment, a quiet giggle escaped as he attempted to make another grab at the hat.

Becoming slightly irritated by their misbehavior, the Professor tipped his top hat to the man he had been talking to. "Thank you. You've been of great help." He turned to the still-arguing children behind him. "Luke, Flora," he said, with a slight hint of impatience in his voice. The indication was enough to end the quarrel. Layton motioned for the two to follow him out of the building, and they guiltily trailed behind.

Flora muttered to Luke under her breath, "This doesn't mean you're getting it back any time soon."

Answering with nothing more than an angry frown tinged with embarrassment, the boy remained silent and looked intently ahead, wishing for nothing more than for his precious hat to be returned to its rightful place: hiding his disheveled hat-hair.

The group continued until they came to street vendor whose cart was stocked with colorful t-shirts and hooded sweatshirts bearing the words "I Love London" and similar designs, disposable cameras and exotically scented hand sanitizers among other things.

"Excuse me, sir?" said Layton genially as he approached the vendor. "I was told that you might be able to help me. I'm searching for a man named Alan Scottsborough."

"You mean Scotty?" the man laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Old Barnes must've sent you!" Within moments, the two were engaged in conversation.

Luke saw this as the perfect opportunity to attempt to reclaim his hat. Looking over at Flora out of the corner of his eye, he quickly thought out a plan. He slowly and inconspicuously reached his hand behind her head, his fingers practically feeling the comforting sensation of the fabric beneath them. In his mind's eye, he could already see it back on his head.

With a single deft movement, Flora removed his cap from her head and held it out of his reach once more. "You're going to have to do better than that, Luke," she said, giving a disappointed sigh. "Much better."

He was taken aback by how quickly she had reacted. "There's no _way_ you saw that coming!" he claimed, mouth gaping. Regaining his composure, he continued with a sigh, "What's it going take to get my hat back?"

She twirled the hat thoughtfully on one finger and after a moment looked back at him. "You'll have to earn it back," she said firmly.

"_What?_" he groaned. "How am I supposed to do that?"

Flora shrugged. "I don't know," she replied, placing the hat securely on her head once more. "The Professor's teaching you how to be a gentleman, isn't he? Do something that'll make me _want_ to reward you."

"You're no fair, Flora!" he moped.

"You're the apprentice to the great Professor Layton," she said, turning and walking away. "You're a smart boy; I'm sure you'll think of something."

He quickly rummaged through his mind for ideas. "Wait!" he cried. "I'll do your chores for a month!"

She stopped in her tracks, and her eyes lit up as she turned back towards him. "Yes," she said slowly, a crafty smile finding its way across her lips. "Go on."

"I'll… I'll…" He shook his head slightly, hoping for another idea. "I'll never set eyes on your diary again! On purpose _or_ on accident!"

She nodded. "Continue."

Throwing his hands into the air in desperation, he said, "And I'll make you breakfast in bed, too!"

"For a week?"

He nodded firmly. "For a week."

"Well," she said, pensively tapping her lower lip.

"Well?" he echoed, eager for her to continue.

"It's a nice thought, but it doesn't quite cut it."

"Flora!" he whined. "You're being ridiculous!"

"Well," she said, playfully tugging the brim of her prize, "you're not really in a position to be making demands, now are you?" She headed towards the vendor's cart again. "Try again when you've got more bargaining chips."

Luke crossed his arms and scowled. "Girls and their stupid diaries," he grumbled to himself. He watched the other pedestrians strolling up and down the streets, some flitting from vendor to vendor, as he tried to come up with other things that would soothe the fiery wrath of a girl.

As he went about his pondering, he watched certain individuals, studying their movements and their patterns of walking, his mind wandering to thoughts of what they might be doing. It wasn't long before he was completely taken in by his new game. _I'll be willing to bet that portly old gentleman is heading home from some large corporation after he goes to dinner,_ he thought, amused. _And that woman has an awful lot of bags. It looks like there are toys in them, too. I'll bet she's a tourist gathering souvenirs for her family!_

A slender young woman with glasses who looked to be about the Professor's age was the next to catch his eye. _She's very pretty,_ he mused. _I'll bet she's out to dinner, too. Probably does something very mentally engaging for a living and has a nice family at home. She looks like the kind who'd have a few kids running about. Probably loves them, too._

Smiling brightly, she looked over in his direction, her wavy light brown hair spilling over her shoulders as she did so. Locking gazes with him, she gave a friendly wave. Luke, seeing as no harm could come from being polite, waved back. He watched as her eyes slowly drifted back behind him. Her smile was quickly melted into a look of uneasiness mixed with disbelief as her gaze fell back on him. As suddenly as she had come, she disappeared back into the crowd.

Luke, now terribly confused, looked around, trying to find the source of her distress. Coming up with no solid reasoning, he shrugged it off. "She probably just saw her boss or something," he said quietly to himself, and he returned to Layton.

Tipping his hat politely, the Professor thanked the vendor for his help and after gathering Luke and Flora, headed in the direction of his next destination.

As they walked, Luke would occasionally glance over at Flora, thinking that perhaps some aspect of her appearance would tip him off as to what to offer for his hat. But as he returned his gaze to the path in front of him, he noticed something strange. It was that woman again, following them in the cover of the crowd.

He swallowed nervously. He knew what it felt like to be pursued, and he also knew that very rarely did people follow in secret for a good reason. "Professor?" he asked anxiously, tugging on the back of Layton's coat. "Remember when you told me about stalkers?"

Surprised, Layton looked over his shoulder. "Yes, of course," he replied, lowering his voice. "Why do you ask?"

"I think we've got one," whispered Luke. "She saw us a few minutes ago and disappeared. And now she's behind us." He whimpered. "Is this going to turn out like it did with Don Paolo? Because I really didn't like him."

"Of course not," Layton said resolutely. "We will simply make a few odd turns, lose her and be on our way."

Luke smiled slightly, feeling comforted already. This was one of the things that he liked best about the Professor; he was almost what the boy imagined a father to be like in the way he was constantly looking out for himself and Flora, always seeking to do what was in their best interest or what would make them most comfortable.

"I've got an idea, Luke," he continued. "Why don't you lead us? You know where she is, after all."

The boy nodded uncertainly. "Alright." He looked around for any possible way to escape the strange woman. "Left!" he said. "Past that upcoming group and behind that huge line of carts!"

"Don't get lost," said Layton as he led them in the direction Luke had indicated.

Had the boy been less focused on escaping from the stalker, he would have noticed how unusually tense Flora became when he firmly grasped her hand and piloted his way through the crowd behind the Professor. "Hold on!"

After reaching the relative safety of the caravan of carts, the group returned to their normal pace. "Did we lose her?" asked Flora softly, unnerved at the thought of being followed.

Luke peeked out between two of the racks of merchandise, only to make eye contact with the strange woman once more. A chill ran down his spine. "Not yet."

"Perhaps if we take one of the smaller, older roads," Layton thought aloud.

"Great idea, Professor!" Grabbing onto his sleeve, Luke pulled him toward the side of the road.

Slipping into an alley, the children kept close to Layton. "I doubt she would follow us here," the Professor commented quietly.

Flora nodded in agreement. "I sure hope so."

Luke stood in awe of the space's dark, foreboding atmosphere, slowly moving backwards step by step, taking it all in. _This would be a perfect place to start a horror movie. Creepiest place I've ever been,_ he thought.

His heart leapt into his throat as he backed into something warm. He spun around and came face-to-face with the very same woman who had been following them on the street. She seemed just as surprised as he was.

"Professor!" he squeaked as he took cover behind his mentor. "It's her!"

Holding out a protective hand in front of the children, Layton turned to face the intruder. He took a quick, shallow breath and his heart skipped a beat as she stepped into a beam of light. "Claire?"


	2. The Fair

Chapter 2: The Fair

The woman shrank back at the sound of her name. "Hershel?" she asked quietly. "Is that really you?"

"Professor?" said a surprised Luke. "You _know_ her?"

Not hearing the boy's question, he took a step closer to the woman, smiling warmly. "Who else would it be?" he asked gently.

Claire looked behind him at the two children. "The children," she said slowly, swallowing. "They aren't yours, are they, Hershel?"

"Of course not!" he replied, taking her hand. "I couldn't even bear the_ thought_ of loving another woman!"

Giving him an injured look, she slid her hand from between his fingers. "Then why are they with you? They don't exactly look like college students."

Looking a little hurt, Layton rested a hand on both Luke and Flora's shoulders. "They're both orphans, Claire. I took the boy in as my apprentice, and we met the girl on one of our travels!" His expression softened. "Please believe me, Claire. I would never have the desire to lie to you."

She stepped closer and looked at Luke for a long while. "But the boy looks so much like you."

"Pure coincidence," responded Layton.

Clearly not convinced, she motioned for the boy to come over.

Luke complied, though still not terribly comfortable with her presence. However, he knew that if the Professor was willing to approach her and talk to her like he would to an old friend, she probably wasn't going to hurt him.

She bent over and put a hand on his shoulder. "What's your name?" she asked softly.

He swallowed, his heart pounding nervously. "Luke."

She looked a bit surprised, but continued with the same gentle tone. "Well, Luke, I used to have a little baby boy," she said, brushing her fingers past his hair. "He looked quite a bit like you. Same cute face, same intelligent, inquisitive eyes."

Taken in by her story, he forgot his discomfort. "Really?"

Claire giggled at his dumbfounded tone. "It's true."

Layton stepped up. "What happened to your son?" he asked quietly, his voice tinged with guilt.

Claire's smile faded as she looked up at him. "He was taken away from me," she said bluntly. "Having a newborn child wasn't conducive to my working environment. The other workers needed their sleep, and I couldn't be too exhausted to work accurately. The project head said it was for the best, and he promised he would be taken care of." She looked away, pained by the memories. "That's what he said when he told me I couldn't see you anymore, too. Nobody outside the project could know anything. It was too dangerous." Her last few sentences were spoken bitterly.

"I'm so sorry, Claire," he said, moving closer to her. "I thought you left because you didn't want me anymore. I had no idea."

"And when I finally got out of that prison of a lab," she continued, ignoring him, "you were gone! Gone on another of your adventures!"

He pulled her into a warm embrace. "Please forgive me, Claire," he whispered. "If I had known anything at all, I would have never left!"

She laid her head on his chest without a word and held him tightly, a tiny tear trickling from the corner of her eye. After a long moment, she softly said, "It's good to have you back."

Flora was curiously looking over at the hugging adults and then back at Luke, who was staring, clearly astonished that his teacher really _did_ have a girlfriend. _Maybe…_ She spoke up. "Uh, Claire?"

"Yes?" she answered, not looking away from Layton.

"Did you," she began, hoping not to upset her too much. "Did you ever find your son?"

The woman sighed and looked down. "No, I didn't."

"I think I might know where he is," she said, pushing Luke toward them. "He's got the same eyes as you, the same smile, the same hair color and everything!"

"_What?_" exclaimed the boy. "That's ridiculous! I'm just his apprentice!"

Layton looked uneasily at Claire. "Do you really think it's possible?"

"I _did_ say he looks a lot like you, didn't I?" she said, smiling brightly. "Hershel, I'm quite sure that I would know my little boy when I saw him."

"Yes, I am certain you would, and—"

"If you're really that uncertain," she interrupted, "we can get a paternity test done later." She delicately brushed her fingers over his cheek. "Does that work?"

"Well," he said slowly, "I suppose. When you put it that way, it would seem as though this is all just confirmation."

Claire raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

"I already had some small suspicions of my own," he admitted sheepishly.

Luke appeared to be even more troubled than Layton. "But that would mean," he said carefully, "that the Professor's my…"

Layton shifted uncomfortably. "Yes," he confirmed. "It would."

"So," asked Luke, swallowing a lump in his throat, "does this mean that I might have a family?"

"Luke, my boy," he replied, the discomfort in his voice giving way to a slight hint of laughter, "You always _have_ had a family! A family is defined by their actions, not their bloodlines."

He looked back at Flora. "But what happens if we _are_ a family? What about Flora?"

"Then Flora can be part of our family, too." said Claire, smiling at them. "How does that sound?"

"Sounds perfect." He smiled and wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly.

The Professor laughed and motioned for Flora to join. "You're a part of this, too."

She hesitantly approached and shifted awkwardly. "I'm not so sure—" But before she could finish sharing her doubts, Luke roped her in. _Maybe this'll work out after all,_ she thought.

Claire laughed quietly. "How about we get out of this dingy alley? People might start to suspect suspicious activity," she said jokingly.

Layton chuckled and placed a tender kiss on her forehead. "Good plan, my dear."

Back on the streets, Claire took Layton's hand and lacing her fingers with his, gave it an affectionate squeeze. "How about we take a walk in the park?" she asked softly. "London's beautiful in the twilight."

"I like the way that sounds," he replied, smiling. He turned to Luke and Flora. "What do you two think?"

"I'd like that," Flora giggled.

"Me, too," added Luke, moving closer to her.

Layton laughed quietly, "The park it is then."

Several minutes later, Luke plopped himself down on a bench near the pond and yawned. "I'm kind of tired," he mumbled.

Sitting next to him, Claire giggled, "Well, it _has_ been quite a day for you."

He nodded as the others joined him on the bench. "There's only one thing that could make this day better. I _could_ have my hat back."

Flora shrugged and played with its brim. "It's possible," she said. "But you still haven't _earned_ it."

The boy frowned. "What do you want? I'll do anything as long as it gets me my hat back."

"Like I said: I'm sure you'll think of something."

Suddenly, Luke was struck by an idea. He leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek, snatching the hat from her head in the process. "And if _that_ doesn't earn it back," he said, pulling it firmly onto his head, "then I don't know what would!"

Her face flushed a deep red, and she stared at her lap.

Giggling, Claire watched as the boy proudly adjusted it on his head. "What a little charmer!" she mused, looking up at Layton. "He reminds me of a certain someone I know." She raised an eyebrow flirtatiously.

The Professor laughed and laid his forehead against her temple, playfully sticking his nose into her hair. "I missed you, love," he whispered sweetly into her ear.

She gave a delighted shudder and slowly looked up, her lips gently brushing against the corner of his mouth.

Laughing slightly, he tenderly stroked her cheek. "Come now!" he teased. "Your aim was much better the last time I saw you!"

She shrugged. "It's not like I've had anyone to practice with."

"Then let me help you." Placing his curled forefinger under her chin, he gentle raised her head and slowly moving his face closer, he tenderly touched his lips to hers.

She was flooded by a warm sensation as she leaned in, kissing him back, and she caught her fingers, directed by nothing more than impulse, leisurely working their way to the back of his neck. Try as she may, she just couldn't remember the last time she felt so safe or comforted; she did however, recall the last time they were together. Somehow, this time her attraction to him felt stronger, more powerful.

Luke shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Sitting beside the Professor had never been this awkward of an experience. The boy knew that his discomfort was partially traced to the newfound idea of the man whom he admired most being his father, but it was mostly from the intimacy going on a mere few inches away from him. Not that it was wrong for the Professor to feel strongly about a woman, but Luke had never seen him act so passionately about another human before. In Luke's mind, it was distinctly possible that his teacher loved Claire almost as much as he loved puzzles.

He looked on curiously, watching with a mixture of shock and slight disgust as Layton's hand slid down to her waist. _He must really like her if he's willing to risk not being a gentleman with her._ He was overcome by a sudden ominous feeling that this wasn't going to get any more proper.

Flora bit her lip, seemingly thinking the same thing. "Luke," she said softly. "We should probably let them be for a few minutes. Even adults need their alone time." She soundlessly slipped off the edge of the bench.

"Alright," he agreed, following her lead. Unable to resist, he took one last look at the pair as Claire playfully tugged on the brim of Layton's top hat.

Luke swallowed nervously and followed his companion along the edge of the lake. After a moment, he spoke up. "So where exactly are we going?"

"I'm not really sure," she replied, nervously glancing back. "Anywhere but there, I guess."

"I see," he said softly. In the distance, he could see a fence rising against the skyline. "Isn't that the fairground over there?"

Flora followed his line of sight. "That's what it looks like," she said, smiling. She took a deep breath, as if contemplating making an important decision. "What would you think about a little visit?" She bit her lip nervously.

Luke cocked his head, slightly confused. "But wouldn't it be closed on Sunday? The gates would be locked."

"What if I could get us in?" she pushed. "Would you want to come with me?"

He smiled and looked over at her. "With such small lines, what better time to go?"

Breathing a quiet sigh of relief, she laughed. "Sounds fantastic!"

A short walk later, the pair found themselves at a locked gate. Luke let out a disappointed sigh. "I knew it'd be locked," he said gloomily. "There's no way we can get in."

"Don't be so sure," replied Flora, carefully examining the chain link fence. "I think we can improvise."

"Huh?"

Tightly gripping the highest part she could, she slipped her foot into one of the holes and began scaling the barrier. "We can climb up," she replied cheerily, looking over at him. "Come on!"

The boy looked up at the top of the fence and swallowed. "You sure this is such a great idea?"

"It'll be fine!" she giggled in response. "You're not afraid of heights, are you?"

Luke didn't answer; he was too busy scurrying up the fence, eyes never moving from the top. Once there, he took a deep breath and carefully swung himself over the edge, landing with a slight thump on the other side.

"Quite the little climber!" remarked the girl, continuing her ascent.

As she neared the top, Luke called out to her. "Jump!" he said with a smile, holding out his arms. "I'll catch you."

Her cheeks went slightly rosy. "Are you sure this is such a great idea?"

"It'll be fine," he said. "I wouldn't let you get hurt."

"Alright," she said, biting her lip. "I trust you." Praying that she wouldn't crush him, she took cautious aim and hopped from the fence, landing thankfully in his arms.

However, Luke hadn't taken into consideration that she might be heavier than she looked, particularly as she fell, and his knees buckled and gave way immediately after her landing.

Flora bit her lip guiltily and loosened her grip around his neck. "You're not hurt, are you?" she asked, her eyes shining with concern.

He shook his head. "Not really," he said, laughing. "Just a bit shaken up."

The girl quickly got off his lap and held out her hand.

Luke took it and got off his knees. "So where are we going first?" he inquired cheerfully.

Blushing a little, she looked down at their hands, still gently clasped together. "Well," she began uncertainly, "I was thinking we could go to the Ferris wheel."

"Erm, alright." Not seeming too fond of the idea, he followed his companion anyway until they came to a stop at the ride.

"Hop on," she said. "I'll start it up."

He wordlessly obeyed and carefully boarded the car. Its worn-down appearance didn't appease his doubts; the seat had lost most of its comfort long ago, and the designs painted on the car itself, both inside and out, were chipped. The old machine looked like it hadn't been used in years.

Conveniently finding an ancient-looking key at the base of the controls, Flora inserted it and gave it a firm twist. The engine groaned, but slowly came to life. The whirring axels gave off the smell of grease and oil as Flora pulled a lever that began the wheel's rotation.

As Luke's car slowly moved upwards, Flora quickly grabbed onto the handles and pulled herself in with him.

Luke was more thankful than he could describe when she plopped down next to him on the cushion. He was glad that she made it on safely, but he was even gladder that he wasn't going to be alone. Subconsciously, he firmly gripped the edge of the seat, and his palms began to sweat.

Flora sighed and leaned back in the seat, tilting the car slightly, much to Luke's dismay. "The sky's really pretty tonight," she said softly. "You can see some of the stars even though the sun's hardly started setting." Concerned when he didn't reply, she turned to him. "Are you alright, Luke? You're looking rather pale and shaky."

He swallowed with difficulty. "I'm fine," he mumbled.

"You're not afraid of heights, are you?" she asked gently.

Taking a deep breath, he quietly replied, "Well, maybe just a little."

"If you didn't want to ride," she said quietly, "all you had to do was say so."

"But I couldn't leave you to ride on your own!" he softly said. "That would hardly be polite! And I could tell how badly you wanted to do this."

Luke's words reminded the girl of the earlier events of the day, of the hat and of the way he had fought to retrieve it. A wave of guilt swept over her, and she bit her lip. "Luke?" she said, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry for taking your hat earlier. That wasn't the right way to deal with my feelings."

"Well, I got it back, didn't I?" he asked, looking up at the brim. "That's all that really matters."

She nodded silently, slightly surprised that he seemed to be alright with it.

He coughed awkwardly and quickly looked back down at the floor of the car. "So if you don't mind me asking," he slowly said, "why _did_ you take it? I mean, I figure it's something about our diary, but I honestly didn't read a word of it!"

She blushed slightly. "I was overreacting," she stated bluntly. "I know you didn't read it." She looked down at the floor. "It was the thought of you _possibly_ reading it that upset me. That book has lots of very personal thoughts in it."

"Which is exactly why I _wouldn't_ read it!" Luke exclaimed, looking bravely over at her. "That would be _very_ impolite! And no gentleman would _ever_ do something that disgraceful!"

Flora laughed quietly to herself. "You're so thick sometimes."

"Did I miss something?" he asked, giving her a confused and worried look.

"It would seem that way," she said, amused. She let out a tiny sigh. "Have you ever felt strongly about someone?"

He cocked his head. "You mean like the Professor?"

She shook her head. "I mean stronger. Like you feel warm and happy inside when the person talks to you, even if it's just to say hello." She suddenly went very quiet. "Or when they hold your hand."

"Oh! You mean like the way the Professor feels about Claire?"

She nodded. "Like that."

"Well, I'm not quite sure I've felt that before," he replied, scratching his head. "Don't think anyone could feel it as much as them."

She drooped slightly, clearly disappointed. "So you haven't? Not even a little? About anyone?"

"Well," he mumbled sheepishly, "I guess maybe a little."

Breathing a tiny sigh of relief, she continued, "I've been feeling it a lot lately. I've thought about it, and…" She took a deep breath. "You're the person that I feel strongly about," she finally admitted.

Needless to say, Luke's cheeks flushed a dark red. "T-that can't be right!" he stuttered.

"But it's the truth," she insisted.

"That can't be me! I'm just your travel companion!" He went on a flustered, senseless ramble of reasons she must be mistaken.

She rubbed her forehead with a frustrated sigh. _I told the truth!_ she thought, irritated. _Why won't he just believe me?_ Quickly running out of options, she came to the conclusion that only through deliberate action would she get him to understand. She turned to face the boy who was still ranting, and she quickly leaned in, gently pressed her mouth to his.

Eyes wide, he immediately went silent and after going through several shades of red, settled on crimson as an odd but pleasantly warm, tingly feeling quickly buzzed from his lips to the rest of his body.

After a few moments, she pulled away. "I'm sorry," she said softly, embarrassed for having actually done it.

"Sorry?" he asked, confusedly looking down at his mouth and lightly running his fingertips over it. "What for?" He rubbed his neck awkwardly. "It felt pretty good," he mumbled. "I kind of liked it, actually."

Flora's heart leapt in surprise. "Really?" She was barely able to contain her excitement.

He nodded, fingers still held to his mouth.

Back in the park, Claire sat on Layton's lap, leaning back and running her fingers the entire way through his hair, his jacket neatly folded beside them with his signature top hat sitting on top of it. His arms were wrapped securely around her waist, stroking her sides as he rested his head on her shoulder, his lips caressing her ear.

Claire giggled and playfully patted his cheek. "Stop that, Hershel! It tickles!" She shuddered in delight as he lightly nipped her earlobe. "Hershel!"

"Forgive me, dear," he crooned, "but I still can't believe you are truly here in my arms once more."

Her eyes narrowed seductively. "I can help with that," she said smoothly, tugging playfully at his collar.

"I would love to," he murmured, "but I don't think that sort of activity is appropriate for the children to watch. Perhaps later when I'm less occupied."

"In that case," she giggled, "you can all come over to my apartment. I'll just pop in a movie for the kids, and you and I can have some quality alone time." She stroked his cheek. "How does that—" She stiffened up. "Hershel?" she asked, a hint of panic in her voice. "Where are the children?"

"What?" He sat up, looked over at the other end of the bench and groaned.

"They could be anywhere by now!" cried Claire as she scrambled off his lap.

"It's alright, dear," he said, retaining his composure. "They couldn't have gone far. They're probably visiting the fairgrounds. They both love carnivals."

She went pale. "That's bad, Hershel."

"But would they not have shut it down if there was something wrong?" he inquired, starting off in the direction of the fairgrounds.

Putting her hand on his shoulder, she looked him in the eye. "You mustn't have been back too long," she said. "It's been closed for weeks! Some of the machines had horrible malfunctions, and they were abandoned."

Layton took her hand tightly and quickened his pace to a run. "Then there isn't a moment to lose!"

Luke and Flora's car was nearing the top of the Ferris wheel's cycle. Flora was comfortably snuggled up to him, her head leaned on his shoulder and a gentle smile carved into her lips. This was one of the happiest moments of her young life, second only to being rescued by Luke and the Professor. She was content and accepted, confident that there wasn't a thing in the world that could ruin her mood when suddenly, she heard a loud metallic _ping_ and the sound of something landing in the dirt below.

Luke heard it, too. Unnerved, he clung to her side. "Flora," he squeaked. "What was that?"

"I'm not sure," she replied with a nervous gulp. "But it didn't sound very good."

As if on cue, the rotation ground to a halt, putting them at the highest point on the wheel, and the wheel itself began to creak and groan, a noise that sounded oddly like rust scraping against rust. A gentle breeze blew, and it began to sway.

Luke let out a soft whine. "It's going to fall."

Flora looked around frantically for some possible method of escape.

"We're at the top, too," he whimpered. "We're going to die."

"Not if we can get over there, we won't!" said Flora firmly, pointing over at a group of faded purple awnings of a lemonade stand that was placed next to the wheel. "It's not that far away," she determined. "It's a good thing this isn't a very large wheel." She quickly stood up and moved to the edge of the car. "We can make it."

Once more, Luke clung to the edge of the seat. "I can't look down from here," he admitted. "It makes me really dizzy."

She grabbed his hand. "Just hold on," she comforted. "Close your eyes, and I'll guide you."

He closed his eyes and stood up, knees shaking violently. "I trust you."

"Get ready to jump," she said, the angle of the car becoming more noticeable.

The wheel moaned and leaned almost directly over the lemonade stand.

"Now!"

At her command, the two leapt from the toppling ride and fell, praying that her aim had been accurate. And at that very same moment, Layton and Claire dropped to the ground, landing within the boundaries of the fairground. They watched in horror as the Ferris wheel tottered and collapsed, the metal snapping and twisting as it hit the dirt.

"No!" cried Layton, stumbling towards the rubble.

Flora landed on the canopy with a dull thud, Luke following soon after. "Are you alright?" she asked frantically.

He opened one eye and looked around, smiling. Taking a step towards her, he said, "I think so—" But their collective weight on that one area of the old fabric was too much for it to handle, and it tore, dropping them the remaining ten feet to the ground. Luke frantically grabbed onto the edge as Flora grabbed onto him. The awning ripped more, knocking him against the stand itself and then to the ground.

Flora sat up and held her head. "Luke?"

The boy made no response, and his body lay crumpled against the stand.

She began to panic. "Luke!" She scrambled over to his side. "Talk to me!"

He let out a weak, airy groan and his eyes flickered open slightly.

She breathed a massive sigh of relief. "Thank goodness!" She leaned over and gave him a gentle hug, causing him to cry out in pain.

"My arm," he moaned.

Frantically examining his arms, it wasn't long before she found the source of his hurting; there was a long hole torn in his sleeve, and the new opening was stained a deep crimson. "No," she whispered, her eyes welling with tears.

Claire and Layton ran to them, breathing heavily.

"We heard your shouting," said Claire. "Are you two alright?"

Layton immediately noticed Luke's injury and knelt beside him. "Flora!" he said firmly. "Help me remove his shirt. We'll need to inspect his wound."

The girl did as she was told. She and Claire watched anxiously as the Professor examined the bloody gash.

"It's fairly deep," he said solemnly. "We'll need to get him to the hospital so he can get cleaned up. Other than needing a few stitches, he should be fine." He turned to Claire. "Call an ambulance for him."

She bit her lip and nodded. "I'll be right back." With that, she was gone.

Flora looked down at her friend, practically crushed by her guilt. "I'm so sorry, Luke," she whispered, gently stroking his bangs. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

The boy smiled slightly and reached up with his good arm, putting his hand on her cheek. "Please don't cry. It was an accident; it could've happened to anyone. And I'll be fine, I promise."

She nodded slightly. "Okay," she replied, blinking back tears.

He laughed quietly. "And a gentleman always keeps his promises."

A few short minutes later, Claire came running back. "They should be here any minute," she panted. "Any changes with him?"

"None," answered Layton, pulling her into a hug. "But he will be alright."

She looked over at the boy uncertainly, both hoping for the best and fearing the worst.

Luke smiled back at her. "It's okay, Mum. I'll be fine," he said reassuringly.

It was too much for Claire to take. She buried her face into Layton's shoulder, moisture leaking from eyes. "He called me Mum," she sobbed softly.

The Professor rubbed her back soothingly. "I think I hear the ambulance," he whispered to her. "It's almost here."

About an hour later, the four stood outside the hospital, and Luke adjusted his sling. "I don't see why I need this," he grumbled. "It's itchy!"

Claire gently put a hand on his injured arm. "Don't mess around with that! It'll make sure you don't use it too much," she explained. "That way it'll heal faster."

He sighed and stared at it for a moment. Redirecting his attention to Flora, he held out his good arm and smiled cutely. "How about a hug?"

Her cheeks went slightly pink. "But won't that hurt?"

"Not if you're gentle," he replied with a grin.

Rolling her eyes, she carefully put her arm under his bad one and gave him a gentle squeeze.

"Feel better?" he whispered.

She nodded. "Thanks," she said, a smile in her voice.

She let go, and he looked over at Layton. "Professor? There's something I've been meaning to ask you," he said.

"By all means, my boy, Layton chuckled, "ask away."

"Where are your jacket and your hat?"

He uncertainly reached up and felt, to his dismay, his hair rather than his silk top hat. "Oh dear," he mumbled to himself. "I _knew_ something didn't feel right."

Claire smiled gently at him. "You probably left them on the park bench," she reasoned. "We were in such a hurry to leave that you forgot to get them."

"That would seem to be the case," he said with an embarrassed chuckle.

"I'll get us a taxi, and we'll head back to the park real quick, pick them up and head home," she said. "And don't worry; everyone makes mistakes, even a gentleman."

He laughed to himself. "Correct again."


	3. An Unwelcome Host

Chapter 3: An Unwelcome Host

"This _is _where you were sitting, wasn't it?" Luke was frantically looking around the bench, in the bushes and behind trees.

"Yes, my boy, it was, and—"

"So they should be here!" the apprentice cried, cutting Layton off. "You left them right on the—" Luke froze in his tracks, staring down at a small scrap of paper left in the grass beside the bench, its corners fluttering in the soft evening breeze.

The boy bent over and picked it up, noticing that words were scrawled on the back—rather haphazardly by the looks of it.

Softly, he read aloud. "Dearest Professor, if you ever want to see your precious top hat again, you will come to the Hillshire Hotel. I'll be waiting to discuss the 'conditions'"

_Conditions. _Luke didn't like the sound of it. Looking up at the Professor, it was obvious that neither did he.

"Do you think it could be Don Paolo?" Luke began. "Though you'd think he'd come up with something a little more dastardly than stealing your hat," he muttered.

Layton nodded. "It could very well be." The Professor cleared his throat and pushed his hair off of his forehead. "In any case, it would be best if I were to comply with the thief's demands. I can take care of the issue myself. Luke, Flora, you can go with Claire to her apartment and wait for me there."

"Hershel." Claire reached out for him and gripped his hand tightly. "We're _not_ going to let you go by yourself," she protested firmly, frowning. "There's safety in numbers, isn't there?" Her frown melted into a warm smile, the smile she knew that he had loved, the smile that could convince him of almost anything. "Please?"

He stared at her for a moment and let out a defeated sigh. "Alright," he said, rubbing her hand. "You can come. But I'll have you know that you have cheated your way into it."

She raised an eyebrow. "How can you call it cheating if you just can't say no?"

He smiled at her, but quickly returned to being serious. "We had best get there as soon as possible. We don't know what our thief is planning."

A short taxi-ride later, the group found itself standing outside an older building with the name "Hillshire Hotel" on the front, the bulbs burnt out in several places. The bricks on the front had a weary, worn look about them, making the building seem years older than it probably was.

"Stay close, everyone," instructed Layton. "We don't want him to catch us off guard"

As they entered the old-fashioned lobby, he led them to the front desk. Seeing as there was no one there, he gave the service bell a cautious tap, and its tiny, crisp _ding_ could be heard echoing through the empty lobby.

"There doesn't seem to be a soul in this place," Layton observed.

As if just to contradict him, a voice came over the loudspeaker. "Hello there, Hershel and friends," it chirped delightedly. "I was hoping just the Professor would show, but I figured you wouldn't just _abandon_ him, so I made preparations for everyone."

"Preparations?" asked Luke, confused.

"Of course!" it responded. "It wouldn't be very polite to leave you other people with unprepared rooms, now would it? Come up to the second floor, and I'll meet you there. It'll be nice to see you all after such a long time. I'll be waiting." With a little click, the intercom went silent.

They all looked at each other, none quite sure what to expect. Layton swallowed. "Stay close," he reminded firmly. "Let's go meet our thief."

Upon reaching the second floor, Flora looked around, hoping to see someone, but the hall was empty. "Hello?" she called timidly.

Luke immediately hushed her and put his hands over her mouth. "Don't let him _hear_ you!" he whined.

"It's alright, Luke," said Layton, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I won't let him hurt you."

A not-so-friendly-sounding laugh came from down the hall. "Always the gentleman, eh, teach?" It was the same voice from earlier.

"Show yourself!" he replied, stepping forward. "I'm here to discuss your conditions for the safe return of my hat and jacket."

"Well now!" exclaimed the voice. "I'm ready to talk. I've been waiting quite some time now to be able to get a little one-on-one with you." Out from the shadows stepped a young man of about sixteen or seventeen wearing a light blue overcoat, long brown pants—which seemed entirely unfitting given the tie and vest he wore as well—and a hat that looked strikingly familiar.

Luke swallowed nervously as the stranger approached them, walking with a cool swagger. He looked like an older version of himself, more mature, more handsome and much taller. "Who are you?" he squeaked softly, ducking behind Claire for protection.

The stranger chuckled. "Hey there, little me! I haven't seen _you_ in quite some time!"

"_Little me?_" he asked, confused. "But wouldn't that mean you're—?"

"Older you?" he smirked. "_Damn!_ I forgot just how sharp I was as a kid!" His last few words were fairly caustic.

Layton cleared his throat. "I don't mean to be rude, but I would like to make this as brief as possible. We don't typically associate with thieves and liars."

The older Luke clutched his chest and gave him a dramatic and obviously fake hurt look. "Liars?" he asked, aghast. "You don't mean to suggest that I wouldn't be honest, do you?"

"This is _not_ the Luke I raised," he stated firmly. "You're not Luke, merely an imposter."

"Oh, come now," retorted the older Luke dryly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "I went through all the trouble of setting up rooms here for you so that we could spend some quality time together, just to have you waltz in and insult me?" He snorted. "And I thought you were a gentleman!"

"What do you want in exchange for my hat and jacket?" he repeated stiffly. "I came here to bargain, not to play games."

He shuddered in wicked pleasure. "Ooh! Touchy!" he shook his head. "I've already answered, Professor. I was hoping to spend some quality time with you!" His eyes narrowed.

Claire looked at him in disgust. "_What?_"

"You're lucky I don't mind repeating myself; otherwise I would've grown impatient by now." He stepped closer to her. "I was hoping to spend some quality time with him," he reiterated. "You know, a personal one-on-one?" His mouth twisted once more into an unpleasant smirk as his voice lowered and he came in even closer to her. "Have a problem with that… _Mum_?" Her title dripped like a vulgarity from his lips.

"So what do you say, Professor?" he continued, nearing closer to Layton. "Spend some alone-time with me, and I'll see if you can earn your hat back."

The way this older Luke paced around Layton reminded Claire of a snake, circling its prey again and again, building pressure until its victim was completely bound.

The younger man stopped behind the Professor, and leaned in close to his ear with that same devilish smirk playing across his lips. "So do we have a deal?"

Layton remained unmoved, still staring straight ahead, unaffected by the young man's intimidating presence. "And what exactly do you want from me when you have me alone?" he questioned.

Older Luke sighed and rolled his eyes. "Again, you should be glad I don't mind repeating myself!" he scoffed. "You need to _earn_ the hat back." He turned to his younger self. "Isn't that right, little guy?" From the way he continued to wear that menacing grin, everything must have been going according to his plan.

Luke swallowed, recalling when Flora had told him that very same thing earlier that day. He could only imagine his older self would want something even greater in return. He shuddered, frightened by the thought, and slowly stepped away from the young man, clinging tighter to Claire's shirt and burying his face into her side.

"Hah." Luke's counterpart chuckled. "Guess you're the only one who knows what I mean." He turned to face Flora. "Except of course, your little _princess_ here." He stepped in closer. The girl was looking down, refusing to make eye contact. The supposed time-traveler growled from the back of his throat, and whipped out a hand, grabbing her by the chin and pulled her face upward until their eyes met. There was a long, heavy silence. Finally, older

Luke spoke up. "Sure has been a while since I saw you, sweetheart! How about a kiss?"

"Ugh!" Flora squeezed her eyes shut and tried to turn away, but the force of the teen's hand was too strong and kept her head completely still. There was another long period of silence.

"I hate to interrupt, sir," said Layton, "but I don't believe you ever gave us your name."

The young man smirked at Flora and looked up. "Well, seeing as you refuse to call me by my first name, you can all just call me Legal. You can think of it as my superhero name."

Flora jerked her chin from his grasp. "Superhero my—"

"Now, now!" he chided. "I don't think that sort of language is appropriate for a lady! Such a dirty mouth…" He sighed and shook his head. "And here I was hoping to spend time with _all_ of you in the morning. I'm so eager to recall my past."

Without thinking, Luke burst out, "If I spend time with you, will you leave the Professor alone?" All eyes were immediately on him. In particular, he could feel Flora's alarmed stare almost burning into his skin. He could practically hear her voice echoing in his mind. _What are you thinking?_ It was desperate, terrified and lonely.

_I'm sorry, Flora,_ he thought somberly, _but can't let him do that to the Professor. It wouldn't be right._

Legal scratched his chin thoughtfully. "You mean it?"

"Of course he didn't!" cried Claire defensively. "It was just a slip of the tongue!"

"No, Mum." Luke came out from behind her. "I meant it," he said firmly. "But _only_ if he promises to leave the Professor alone."

"Luke, please be rational," pleaded Layton. "There's no need to do anything rash; I can handle this."

Ignoring the Professor, Legal knelt next to the boy. "So you'd really let _me_ babysit you in exchange for the Professor's hat and jacket?"

Luke nodded shyly in response.  
From behind, Flora grabbed Luke's hand. "If you're going to insist on this, I'm coming with you."

Legal sighed and stood, running his fingers through his hair. "So much for alone time," He grumbled to himself. The young man cleared his throat. "Very well then," he said, his grin broadening.

Claire protested, "We're not leaving either of you alone with him!"

"What?" Legal said with mock innocence. "Don't you trust me? That hurts my feelings!" He sighed. "If you're really that concerned…" He put his arms around Luke and Flora's shoulders, putting his head between theirs. "I promise that I won't touch a hair on their little heads! Gentleman's honor!"

Uneasily, Claire looked over to the Professor. Layton kept firm in his argument. "Absolutely not."

"Aw, come now, Professor!" the older Luke pleaded. "You don't believe me? If it's any reassurance, your room's right next to ours."

Luke was shocked. "Their room?"

"Well of course their room! Where else were you expecting them to stay?"

There as once again a heavy silence as Layton thought and turned his remaining options in his head. "So be it then," he said quietly.

Legal's eyes lit up.

"But," Layton continued firmly. "If there is any suspicious activity, we will call the authorities. Understand?"

"Completely," Legal replied, putting his hands up defensively. "Like I said, gentleman's honor!"

He nodded. "I'll see to it that you keep that promise."

"Don't you worry," the young man replied, opening a nearby door. "It'll all be fine." He jerked his thumb at the door to the left. "That one's yours. It's got a nice, comfy queen just waiting to be tested." He laughed to himself and followed the children in.

Stepping into the room, he shut the door and leaned against it, letting out a deep breath. He let out a snort of sarcastic laughter and rolled his eyes. "Gentleman's honor," he scoffed. "What is this? Boy Scouts?" He shook his head. "So," he said after a moment, turning to the children, "who's ready to spend some extra-special quality time with your old pal Legal?"

Luke backed into Flora and swallowed. "Just because I volunteered for this doesn't mean I really want to do it," he mumbled.

"Don't worry," he chuckled. "I'll be gentle. Promise."

Completely unnerved by the suggestive gleam in his eyes, the boy grabbed Flora's hand and dashed to the bathroom, quickly shutting and locking the door behind them. "He's mental, that one!" he whined. "No _way_ we're going back out there!"

"We won't be able to stay in here all night either," Flora pointed out. "He's going to have to come in at _some_ point."

He groaned. "We're staying in here as long as possible."

Legal gingerly knocked on the door. "Come on out!" he coaxed. "I've got a fun game we can play together."

"Never, you fiend!" cried Luke valiantly, throwing a bottle of shampoo against the door.

Flora raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly is that helping our situation?" she inquired.

He flushed. _It was impulse, I guess…_ "Maybe it scared him off?" he replied hopefully.

On the other side of the door, Legal put his head in his hand. "Why must I always do things the hard way?" he sighed, pulling a wire from his pocket. He carefully stuck it into the lock and wiggled it around until the door popped open with a tiny _click_. He grinned and pocketed his tool. "Ready or not, here I come!"

With a frightened squeal, Luke covered his head and cowered behind Flora, who turned and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, holding him close.

Legal shrugged nonchalantly. "Don't see why you're so scared. I'm just trying to be a good babysitter and play games with you!"

"Good babysitter my _bum_!" Luke retorted.

"No, really," the older variation said, trying to be as convincing as possible. "The first one's called 'Ask Legal Questions About Your Future'. And I'll only answer what's asked." He raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like fun, doesn't it?"

Luke sat up. "Bet you're just faking it," he grumbled. "Bet you're just lying. You're not me from the future. You _couldn't_ be."

Legal raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "Really? A bet?" He smirked once again. "Well, how about this? If I can prove to you that I really am from the future, you can play my little game with me. Sound like a deal?"

Luke frowned. _There's no way he could prove it!_ "Fine," the boy said bluntly. "It's a deal."

"Well," Legal began. "I can tell you for a fact that your sweet little Flora isn't the quiet, polite little girl you thought she was." He was clearly getting some enjoyment from his younger self's expression of shock and disbelief. "In fact, she has a secret that she never intended to tell you."

"Stop it!" Flora growled, her face transitioning a few shades of red.

The young man's smile spread even further across his face. "Your girlfriend is really nothing more than a freak of nature!"

"I said _stop!_" She was raising her voice at this point.

"You want me to tell you?" Legal pressed, his voice raising only in the slightest.

"You tell him and I'll—"

"She's in your head."

The room stood still for a moment.

"Wh…What?" Luke answered quietly looking to Flora, whose head was hanging in shame and embarrassment. "In my _head?_"

"You bet!" laughed Legal. "Haven't you ever felt that she seemed to know what you were thinking before you even let on? Or maybe, if you were really lucky, you heard her beautiful voice echoing in your head."

"Would you just stop it?" Flora cried, her eyes brimming with tears. "You really don't have to keep going on about it!"

He shrugged. "Come on, sweet cheeks," he crooned. "I was just doing something that had to be done. A necessary evil!"

Luke looked at Flora with concern. "So it's true?"

She nodded, refusing to make eye contact with him. "Call it telepathy, ESP, mindreading, _whatever!_" she sniffed. "It all means the same thing; I'm a freak who can't keep her thoughts in her own head."

He took her hand. "It's…" he began, careful of his word choice, "undeniably unusual, but that doesn't mean you're a freak, Flora. I can't find a thing wrong with you!"

Reluctantly, she looked up at him, two tiny streams of tears trickling down her cheeks.

He smiled gently at her. "I mean it, you know."

"So," droned Legal, rolling his eyes, "I really _do_ hate to ruin your sappy little affair, _especially_ right before the big kiss, but you have a bargain to keep." He sat down and leaned against the wall. "Welcome to the game!"

Luke swallowed and mustered up enough courage to speak. "Alright." He paused. "So I just ask you a question?"

"Anything you like."

The boy's mouth was dry. "Is…" he thought about his question for a short while. "Is Claire really my mum?"

"Yes." His response was sharp and bitter.

Luke's eyes shone with a newfound excitement. It was confirmed—he really _did_ have a family! "Is she going to live with us?"

Legal refused to answer the question. "Wouldn't you be more interested in her health? Her well-being?" his lips curled up at the edges, as a plan began to form in his head. If he just word it correctly…

"What do you mean well-being?" Luke asked timidly, a hint of fear apparent in his voice.

"Let's just say your mommy's gonna be in a lot of pain. Lots of blood and tears and angry shouts." He sighed and waved a hand at his younger self.

Luke was frozen stiff. "Who did it?" he exclaimed, his heart pounding.

Legal smirked. He had him. "Give you one guess."

Luke's heart nearly stopped. "It… it wasn't… not the Professor! He would never hurt anyone!" He looked down. His eyes were welling up with tears, and he tried his hardest to blink them back. "Especially Mum!"

"Well, he's going to, and it all starts tonight." The older Luke's twisted smile grew. "But," he started, reaching into his pocket and revealing the thin wire he had used to pick the lock on the bathroom door. "There _is_ a way you can stop it. And all you have to do," he said, holding out the wire to his younger self, "is do exactly what I say."

"What do I have to do?" he asked softly, still unable to believe that the Professor would raise a finger against his beloved Claire.

"Atta boy," said Legal brightly, clapping him on the back. And that is how Luke learned how to pick a lock.

Meanwhile in the other room, Layton sat on the edge of the bed, slowly running his fingers over the smooth brim of his recovered hat, a guilty frown on his face. _I let the children put themselves in danger. For my hat and jacket, too._ He sighed. _I won't rest until I'm certain that they're safe,_ he decided.

He looked over at Claire as she wandered aimlessly around the room in the exact same fashion as she had been since their entry. She would momentarily stop at arbitrary points in her wanderings and pick up and play with anything within her grasp, only to do the same thing the next time she stopped there. Cleaning and organizing. An odd sort of nervous habit, but a telltale one nonetheless.

Sighing softly, he placed the hat on his head. "Claire?"

Her head shot up at the sound of her name. "Oh, Hershel," she whined, biting her lip. Unable to finish her sentence, she looked back down.

It really wasn't that hard to decipher her thoughts from her face and actions. "Come here," he beckoned gently, patting the bed beside him.

She came without a second thought and sat, snuggling into him for comfort. "I'm sorry, Hershel," she whispered shamefully, "But I just can't help but be worried. I mean, that man…" She trailed off and leaned against him.

He put his arm around her and rested his head on hers. "Nothing bad is going to happen, Claire," he said, putting a comforting hand on her leg. "Nothing."

She nodded slightly. "I sure hope so." Her voice was trembling slightly.

He silently agreed. Deciding that the only way to assuage her fears was to temporarily relieve her of them, he changed the subject. "When we were in the park," he said, smiling kindly, "I found myself recalling the last time I saw you." He paused, lightly rubbing her side in a circular motion with his thumb. He chuckled quietly. "It started out quite similarly, if I recall correctly."

The corners of her worried frown gently curved upward. "So it did," she replied warmly, nestling into his side even more.

"I can remember," he whispered into her ear, "how good it felt, how soft your skin was."

She looked up at him. "I don't think I'll ever figure out how you manage to be so gentle while being so firm," she giggled, reminiscing. "It _was_ wonderful." She playfully tapped him on the tip of his nose. "_You_ were wonderful."

"You exaggerate," he laughed. "However, _I_ will never find a woman with fingers more delicate and deliberate than you."

Her smile widened as she caressed his cheek, allowing her fingertips to slide slowly down his neck to his chest. "You really think so?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shuddered in pleasure as she stroked his chest. "I'm not capable of making something like that up," he said softly.

She laughed quietly, finding her hands wandering once more. "I sure hope not! I would hate to find out that your reviews weren't truthful!" Her fingertips delicately brushed against the brim of his hat.

A tiny smirk crossed the Professor's lips. "I recognize that look in your eyes," he whispered tenderly into her ear. "Is there something I could do for you, dearest?"

She kissed him lightly and slowly around his mouth, not once offering an answer. She carefully lifted his hat from his head and set it on the nightstand.

Next door, Legal sat inside the bathroom, listening intently to the scratching sounds that came from the lock. It gave a tiny _click_, and the door came open. His mouth twisted into a pleased smile. "Very good."

Luke forced a nervous smile in return, steeping into the bathroom. "Then what do I do once I'm in?" he asked his older self.

"All you have to do is run in and startle them," he said coolly, putting an arm around Luke and leading him out of the room. "She'll be saved! And don't worry; everything'll fall into place after that."

Luke obediently followed Legal to the adults' door. His knees were shaking at the thought of what awful things the professor might be doing to Claire at the moment. He swallowed. _He's not hitting her, is he?_ his inner thoughts squeaked, terrified. _He'd never do anything like that to anyone!_ his common sense contradicted. _He's a gentleman! But if the future me says it happened, it must be true!_ Luke clutched the wire pick in his hand.

"Good luck, sport," Legal said with a grin, standing to the side by the back wall.

The boy swallowed and stuck the wire into the lock, gently forcing the tumblers into place. With a light _click_ the lock came loose. "Startle them…" he muttered to himself.

Within moments, Luke found himself throwing open the door in a panic. At that moment, he had heard soft groaning coming from under a mass of sheets on the bed.

"Please be gentle, Hershel," Claire's voice sighed with pleasure.

"As you wish, my dear." The sheets rustled.

"Professor!" Luke shrieked.

The Professor gave a surprised yelp in reply, and Claire cowered under the covers in shock, shivering slightly.

"Luke!" Layton barked, completely unnerved by his present position. "What are you—? How did you—?" he stammered.

Tears welled up in Luke's eyes, frightened of why his mother refused to show herself from under the covers. Was she covered in bruises? Were the sheets being stained with blood at that very moment? The boy trembled at the thought. "I thought you were a gentleman!" he cried. "I thought you wouldn't hurt anyone! Especially not Mum!"

"What are you talking about? I would never hurt her!" Layton sat up angrily, being sure not to reveal his lower half to the boy. "And what ever gave you the idea it was okay to break into our room?"

"He—" Luke spun around to point at his older self, but the young man has already fled. Luke turned back to his parents, an ashamed blush spreading across his cheeks. "I…" he looked away. "I'm sorry Professor. I'll leave." He slowly headed to the door, wishing he had a tail to tuck between his legs as he went.

At that moment, Legal returned to the room and, trying his hardest to stifle his laughter, closed the door. "Was I really _that_ stupid?" he asked himself, running a hand down his face. "Thank _God_ I got some sense knocked into me!" He chortled to himself and flopped down on the bed. From the corner of his eye, he saw Flora standing at the edge of the bed, looking rather cross. He sat up with a grumpy sigh. "What's your problem?"

"What's _my_ problem?" she exploded. "You should be ashamed of yourself! That was _horrible_ the way you took advantage of him!"

An amused smirk crossed his face, accompanying his soft laughter. "Wow, babe," he said, "if looks could kill!" He put an arm around her waist. "But you're just so cute when you're so pissed," he purred. In a single, fluid movement, he was off the bed and had her pushed up against the wall, a devilish gleam in his eyes. "Don't tempt me."

"Let go of me!" she said as she attempted to push him away, a hint of terror in her voice. "You're _nothing_ like him!"

He gave an unpleasant chuckle. "Have you forgotten who I am, Flora?" he asked softly, gazing into her eyes. "Isn't it wonderful to look into the eyes of your lover and only be able to tremble in fear?"

"You're _not_ him!" she choked, trying to swallow her tears. "How could a sweet boy like him could ever turn out to be as terrible as you?"

"Easy," he replied, lounging back on the bed. "I chose to." He looked over at her, his eyes no longer showing that dangerous gleam. "So don't you have any questions for me?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow. "You know, about your future? Maybe with him?"

He could see the glow of curiosity in her eyes, but she refused to respond.

"And I promise there won't be any funny business," he added, "I'm done with tricks tonight. I'll be honest from here on out." His voice became soft and gentle. "I swear it. On my love for you."

She stood for a moment in thoughtful silence, unsure of what to do. _I suppose it's just a question,_ she decided. _I really don't think it could do any harm._ And besides, she was curious. She took a deep breath. "Over the next few years," she began softly, "what happens to us?" Legal tensed. "And why isn't there a future me with you?"

A cold sweat formed at the back of the young man's neck. Slowly, he gave a simple reply. "I'd rather not mention it."

Flora's gaze was unmoving, yet she retained that gentle tone. "You told me you would answer honestly," she pressed.

Looking the girl in the eye was too much for him. The stare had produced a concentration of guilt at the pit of his stomach, making it more and more difficult for him to bring himself to utter a single word.

"Please?" she insisted softly.

There was a long pause before the older Luke exhaled and began to speak. "Ever since that day we met, I thought you were beautiful. And I always had a soft spot for you." He sighed. "I knew you were too good for me. I did everything in my power to try to deserve you, but I tried too hard. You left."

"But I would never—" she cut in, but was halted mid-sentence by Legal's raised hand.  
"You did," he said bitterly, though more to himself. "It was my fault more than anything," he grumbled. "My stupid insecurities. You came from a rich family, and I was raised on the streets! I couldn't possibly be good enough for you!"

The younger Luke, having already left the adults' room, listened in through a crack in the door. Everything Legal was saying was true, and he knew it. But all the same, he could feel his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach. She couldn't leave him. She couldn't leave him and his mother and the Professor behind and go to live on her own!

Flora shook her head in disbelief. "No," she uttered softly. "That isn't true."

"It is," Legal insisted. "I told you I would answer honestly." Finally bringing himself to look into her eyes, he could see a dark swirl of fear in their rich chocolate coloring. "Makes you wish you could change it, huh?"

A hopeful smile formed over her lips. "Though maybe just knowing could prevent it on its own."

The young man sighed. "Much easier said than done, you know." Flora raised an eyebrow. "For starters, do you even know where he is?" A sneaky grin played across his features. "He should've been back by now, am I right?"

"What did you do to him?" she hissed threateningly.

"I didn't do anything," he said flatly. "But between what he saw in the other room and what he heard mere moments ago, it's fairly safe to say he's rather hurt and confused. After all, that _was_ his biggest secret."

Flora's gaze softened as she turned to the slightly opened door. _Oh no…_ "Luke…"

He quickly backed away from the door. "I'm a monster," he said quietly, his voice shaking. "A monster that plays with people's minds." His words were airy and hardly above a whisper.

Hurriedly, Flora opened the door completely and rushed out to Luke, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders and resting her head on the soft material of his hat. "You don't have to be him," she assured softly. "I'm still here."

He sniffled and rubbed his eye against her shoulder, trying to wipe away his frightened tears. "Just leggo…" he choked.

"You shouldn't let that worse-case scenario make your decisions for you!" Flora responded, raising her voice slightly in an attempt to convince him further. She squeezed him tighter. "You're perfect the way you are; you don't need to change."

The boy bit his lip, feeling tears starting to trail down his cheeks. "I don't want to be a monster," he whimpered. "I just want to be with you."

"I promise," she whispered softly into his ear, "I'll never leave you." Her lips gently touched his cheek.

Legal stood watching, a deep frown carved into his mouth. _So naive, _he thought, sighing. "C'mon kiddies, let's get you back in the room," he grumbled. "Wouldn't want an employee walking by and seeing this. They might barf."

Flora and Luke both blushed in a mix of shame and annoyance, but were soon shooed back into the room. Shutting and locking the door behind them, Legal turned to them, arms crossed. "So, if you're done being so disgustingly cute, we can get back to the game." He waved a hand lazily at them. "Next question, anyone?"

Luke shuffled in place nervously. "Did I really do anything?" he asked meekly. "Did I really stop Mum from getting hurt?"

"With what?" the older Luke snorted. "Your little break-in a few minutes ago?" He laughed fully, rubbing his younger self's head and pushing Luke's hat down over his eyes. "I give you points for courage, half-pint, but you really didn't do that great of a job."

"_What_?" Luke whined, pulling his hat back into place. "You told me exactly what to do, and that's what I did!"

"If anything, you really only embarrassed her…"

"So you tricked me?"

"No, you just didn't startle them enough!" Legal smirked. "Now there's nothing left for you to do. Tonight's pleasure will be paid for in blood within the year!"

Luke was silent for a moment. "What's going to happen to her?" he asked quietly, the question directed at nobody in particular.

"Well, buddy," he said, taking a seat on the bed once more, "I'd say your mum's about an hour away from being with child."

Flora shook her head slightly in surprise. "As in, she'll be expecting?" she asked uncertainly.

"What?" Luke stared at her, confused and concerned. "Expecting what?"

"A baby," she replied softly, still not seeming to believe it herself.

His eyes went wide. "So I'm going to be…"

"A big brother," Legal confirmed with a nod.

Luke still looked severely confused. "But wouldn't they have told us?"

"What?" Legal chortled. "That they're makin' bacon next door? That's private business! Stuff most parents don't exactly share with their kids."

"That our family would be growing," he finished, unaffected by his older self's blunt comment. Clearly, he didn't get it.

"Ah." He nodded. "They don't know yet. Not for another few weeks, at least."

"So I'll have to wait _that long_ to find out if it's a girl or a boy?" the boy whined. "The suspense is already killing me!"

Legal laughed. "Sorry, squirt. You won't know until they do."

Luke looked up expectantly at him. "Couldn't _you_ tell me?" he asked hopefully. "I mean, you _are_ me from the future, after all!"

The young man frowned. "The future's a fragile thing," he said, adjusting the brim of his hat. "Nothing's ever set in stone, and anyone who ever tells you otherwise is a liar." He sat in silence for a moment. "But it _is_ true that some things are more likely to occur than others."

"You're not really answering his question," Flora pressed, unable to completely hide her own eagerness.

He lowered his eyes and let out a deep sigh. "In my time, it was a boy," he said slowly. "His name was Marcus."

Luke was trembling with excitement. "I'm going to have a baby brother!" he laughed.

"With something like this, it's nearly impossible to be certain," he added. "And who knows? Your little break-in might have changed the outcome."

Ignoring the last part of his comment, the boy sat cross-legged on the floor, looking up at Legal, starry-eyed. "Could you please tell me more about him?"

He looked away, grimacing. "I'd rather not."

The upturned corners of Luke's excited smile drooped to a pouty frown. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want to!" growled Legal resolutely.

Having had enough of the older Luke's attitude, Flora spoke up. "I bet I know why you don't want to talk about him," she said stiffly. "I'll bet you tried to change for _him_, too, and he ended up shying away from you, just as everyone else seems to have done!"

"You don't know what you're talking about," the young man grumbled.

"I think I do."

"No!" The older Luke lashed out, slapping Flora firmly across the cheek. "You have _no idea_ what you're saying!"

"I know _exactly_ what I'm saying!" she cried, holding a hand to her stinging cheek. "It's the truth, and you _know_ it!"

Frustration welled inside Legal's chest, and with one swift motion, he grabbed Flora by her collar and slammed her up against the nearby wall. "You stay out of my business!" he roared. "One more word and I will not hesitate to hurt you—_severely_!"

"Get off of her!" Luke screeched, tugging at his older self's arms in a desperate attempt to make him let go.

Legal laughed in sick amusement. "What are you going to do? Try to stop me with your one good arm?" Flora was thrashing in attempt to break free, until the man pinned her shoulders to the wall. Moving his face closer to hers, he put his mouth to her cheek and slowly ran the tip of his tongue over it. Turning to his head to his younger counterpart, he grinned, a wild look in his eyes. "What are you going to do now, half-pint?"

Without thinking, the boy lunged at his older self, attempting to knock him away from Flora. Turning his attention to Luke, Legal spun around and grabbed onto the boy's sling. Luke's injured arm grasped tightly in his fist, the young man squeezed his tender wound, which was still quite fresh. He laughed wickedly as his younger self cried out in pain. In a matter of seconds, the boy found himself pinned to the ground, his face pressed to the musty old carpet, and Legal knelt over him, a twisted grin plastered across his face.

"Now for part two of our little game," he crooned, pulling on the suspenders that hung at the younger Luke's sides. "I've always wondered what would happen…"

Luke struggled against his older self's tight hold, screamed and cried, hoping someone would stop this madness. What was going to happen to him? To Flora?

Flora couldn't take it any longer. Utterly livid about Legal's behavior, she grabbed for his shoulder in hopes of prying him away from Luke. However, those hopes were quickly crushed as she too was dragged down to the floor by her wrist.

Now Legal was straddled over the two children, a wild gleam still present in his eyes. "Let's kill two birds with one stone, shall we?" he growled. A hint of pleasure tinged his voice as the corners of his lips curled upward. "Two little virgin birds…"

"Leave her out of this!" Luke cried. What was he thinking? Though in the back of his mind, he knew he had offered himself up to exactly this. If he hadn't, there was no doubt in Luke's mind the Professor would be in his position.

Legal grinned, and roughly pushed Flora aside at his counterpart's request. "If you say so, squirt!" He readjusted his position. "Let's do this then, eh?"

Before he could begin, the door burst open. "Drop him!"

Legal looked up to see that it was Layton who had spoken, Claire at his side. "What do you want?" the young man growled. "You can't _honestly_ be done ravishing your girlfriend!"

"You have no right to violate anyone like this!" he growled, ignoring the young man's churlish remark. "Especially yourself!"

"Who are _you_ to decide my fate? What's right and what's wrong?" snapped Legal. "Who ever authorized _you_ to be in control of me?"

The man fixed his firm gaze on the instigator. "I never said I would control you, Luke, nor would I ever want to." He came a few cautious steps closer. "Your choices are indeed yours to make, but as your supervisor, I—"

"Damn you and your supervision!" Legal cried.

A little glimmer in the young man's eye caught Claire's attention. Oddly enough, it wasn't a quick flash of mischievous intention, anger or any other emotion she had seen from him up until then; it was, in fact, a tear.

"Luke," she summoned softly.

"Damn it all, Professor!" His voice was shaking violently. "Always so absorbed in your stupid puzzles! You left me, _abandoned_ me when I needed you most! And for what?" he choked. "Some God-forsaken riddle! Well here's another one for you then!" He rose to his feet, a growl in his throat and danger reflecting in his eyes. "What do you call a monster that was pushed aside and blue all over?"

"Luke, please," pleaded the Professor.

"Begging doesn't work anymore, _Dad_," he hissed spitefully. "Why do you think I acted up all the time? Because I wanted you to spend a little time with me! Even if it meant you were _lecturing_ me." Hot tears rolled down his cheeks. "And when you wouldn't show me the love I desired, I turned to Mum and Flora and Marcus. It was in their eyes I saw my reflection, the animal I had become." He jabbed an angry finger in Layton's direction. "And it was all because of _you!_"

There was a moment of heavy silence. "Why didn't you tell me?" asked Layton softly.

Legal's words were harsh and bitter. "Because I didn't want to waste my breath."

Luke's words were caught in his throat. Despite everything that his older self had done to him in the short hour or so since he had discovered his ransom note, he still couldn't help but feel sorry for him. No parental support, no baby brother and no Flora to comfort him when he was lonely.

Unable to think of anything else, the boy carefully approached him from the side and wrapped his arms around the young man's waist, holding him in a gentle yet firm and reassuring embrace. Luke opened his mouth to speak, but only a soft whine came out.

At first, the time-traveler looked as if he were about to strike the boy, but he lowered his hand, his expression softening as Luke buried his face into his side. "I…" He swallowed. "I don't understand…"

Chuckling softly, Layton replied, "It appears as though you do, my boy." He smiled gently at them. "He _is_ you after all."

Flora stood in front of him. "And you won't ever have to worry about being alone." She hugged both of the boys. "Because I'll always be with you," she continued softly. "In one way or another."

A new expression found its way to Legal's face. His eyes widened slightly, and his cheeks flushed a cheerful shade of cherry. The most foreign thing of all was his smile; although it was very small, it was clear that it was a true smile and not one of his twisted, mischievous smirks.

Adjusting the loose folds of her robe, Claire drew nearer to Legal and lovingly brushed her fingers through his hair. It had been years since the young man had felt his mother's tender touch, let alone been hugged. He felt his eyes watering again, and he tried to hold it back, ashamed.

"You know, Luke," she said softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, "you don't have to always be brave. It's perfectly alright to let your feelings out, even if it means shedding a tear or two."

Layton joined the others, smiling warmly at the young man. "And I promise," he said firmly, "that I won't _ever_ put a puzzle above you again."

Legal couldn't take it anymore. Breaking away from the others, he bounded a few steps forward and into the Professor's arms. "I'm sorry, Professor," he sobbed, "for causing you all this trouble."

"We all forgive you," he replied gently. "It's a good thing you came. You've given yourself a whole new future to look forward to, and I vow not miss a moment of it."

"Thank you." As Legal pulled away from his mentor, Layton could see that his eyes were still shining slightly.

With a smile, Flora took his hand. "You know," she said sweetly, "you're really not a monster. You just need to feel loved and cared for." She smiled. "From my experience, that seems to be what people need most."

He didn't say a word. He merely smiled and brushed back her bangs, tenderly planting a kiss on her forehead. After a moment, he spoke softly. "Thank you Flora, for never giving up on me." He looked up at everyone else. "And thank you all for everything you've done for me." He laughed and shrugged. "And everything you _will_ do for me in the future." With that he headed for the door.

As he reached out and touched the doorframe, he heard Luke calling to him. "Wait!" the boy said. His counterpart turned around, his head tilted slightly. "I'll try my hardest to grow up to be a man I can be proud of," he said firmly.

The young man smiled. "Don't worry. I know you will." He ruffled his hair playfully. "I'll see you in the mirror tomorrow morning, squirt." He raised his hand and waved a final goodbye before continuing out the door. "Take care."

As Luke watched his older self disappear behind the wall, he noticed something about him that struck him as rather odd. It might have been nothing more than a trick of the light or possibly his fatigue, but he could've sworn he had seen some stray flesh-colored threads floating at the end of his fingertips. And did his fingers seem _lighter_ than the rest of his body? He shook his head. His eyes were playing tricks on him.

Suddenly realizing he had forgotten to ask the young man something very important, Layton dashed out the door, only to return to the room a few seconds later. His perplexed and somewhat disappointed expression revealed his thoughts. "He's gone."

Not completely believing it herself, Claire peeked around the corner. "He is," she said softly. "But I don't think there's any need to worry; he'll be fine."

"Indeed," Layton agreed, lovingly wrapping his arm around her waist and holding her close. His gaze fell on his son, who was already having his arm tended to by Flora. "He's a fine lad."

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**Otakubox and I would like to sincerely thank all of you who have stuck with us thus far, and we hope that you will continue to read and enjoy. We are also very grateful for your comments; we look forward to reading each and every one of them! Critiques are always welcome!**


	4. Surprise

Chapter 4: Surprise

A few minutes had passed before the shock of the departing time-traveler had died down. Flora was tending to Luke's arm—a few of his stitches had been loosened, and the edge of the wound was bleed slightly.

Once the girl had finish cleaning Luke's wound, the Professor finally spoke up. "It's getting late," he said softly. "Why don't the two of you get some rest?" Flora and Luke nodded in agreement.

Upon making their way to the single queen bed in the room, the three passed a dresser with a mirror hanging directly above it. Layton stalled for a moment, taking in his reflection. He had been able to quickly pull on his pants and orange shirt when he had heard Luke's screams coming from the room over. His hat was off, and his hair was ruffled wildly, no doubt due to Claire's fingers combing through it. Quickly, he attempted to brush it back with his fingers and make it appear at least half-decent.

Flora, before climbing into the bed next to Luke, had looked back and noticed Layton trying to tame his disheveled hair. She had also noticed Claire, who was wrapped in nothing more than a robe, the ends of her equally unkempt hair tucked carelessly into its folds. Putting these two pieces of information together along with the older Luke's story of his brother, Marcus, she had solved it. Her cheeks flushed, and climbing under the covers, she called meekly to the Professor.

"Yes Flora?" he said, swiping his fingers through his hair one final time as he approached her.

Quietly, she mumbled her thoughts. "Are you and Claire…" she paused in an attempt to grasp the most polite wording, "going to have a baby?"

Layton was slightly taken aback. It was more embarrassing than astounding, for he knew the evidence was everywhere, but nonetheless, she had figured out what had been happening in the other room. Claire gasped lightly. "It's…" the Professor looked back at the woman. "It's entirely possible."

Luke squealed in delight, though Claire's face held more of a blank expression that showed a slight hint of dismay, if anything.

"But that isn't a guarantee," continued Layton. "Now the two of you please get some sleep. It's been a long day," he said as he pulled the covers over the two children.

Flora buried her face into the cool fabric of her pillow. "Good night, Luke," she bade the boy with a smile. "Sweet dreams."

"G'night," he responded, following her example.

Professor Layton smiled at the children, then turned and met Claire at the opposite side of the room.

Softly, she whispered to him. "You don't think that I'm…"

Layton shook his head, cutting her off. "Like I said," he said just as softly, "there's no definite answer."

Looking down at her feet, the woman silently took hold of Layton's shirt. "Come on," she insisted, lightly tugging. Layton followed her out of the room and shut the door behind them.

"I didn't want the children to hear."

He nodded understandingly.

"I don't think I'm ready for this, Hershel," she continued in her soft, worried tone.

He put a hand on her shoulder "You're a strong woman, Claire," he said, hoping it would reassure her.

"Not as strong as you think." Claire drew herself in closer to him, wrapping her arms around him. "It was so hard," she muttered, "having to do it alone."

Layton looked into her eyes with a soft, kind smile. "You won't be alone anymore."

Claire opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything, Layton's lips were gently pressed against her own. She pulled back slightly. "Thank you," she whispered, "my gentleman of many surprises."

"Claire…" Layton began, pushing one hand into his pocket. "There's one more surprise I have for you." He swallowed. His nerves were eating at his stomach, but in his mind he knew the timing was right.

"What is it?"

His fingers slipped around the material of the box in his pocket. "There's something I've been meaning to give you," he said softly, "since the day you left. I have been carrying it with me every day since then, in hopes that—"

"What?"

"—that I'd see you again someday." Slowly, he lifted it out of his pocket and set it in her hand. "Claire." His hands shaking, Layton slowly raised the lid of the box he had carried with him for so long.

Claire's eyes shone with tears as the soft lights illuminating the hallway glittered on its contents. "Hershel, I…"

"This way, neither of us will ever have to be alone," he said gently as he pulled the petite gold diamond ring from its cushion.

Fat tears rolled down her cheeks. Sobbing, she held him tightly and breathed into his chest, "Yes."

Taking her hand in his, he slowly slid the ring onto her finger and whispered into her ear, letting his lips brush against her skin. "I'll never leave you."

"In one moment," she said after a minute or so of unsuccessfully trying to suppress her tears, "you have given me more happiness than I could have ever hoped to accumulate in my entire lifetime."

Layton smiled. "I'm glad."

Having heard the stirring outside of their door, Flora had snuck up to listen in on their conversation. "How romantic," she gushed. "Now they really _can_ be together!"

"Uh-huh," Luke replied with far less enthusiasm than she'd expected.

Flora crossed the room and returned to her spot on the bed next to Luke. "What's wrong?" she asked him.

"Nothing really," he replied. "I've just learned so much. And all in one day!"

It _was_ true. All in the course of that day, Luke had managed to find his parents, had learned of Flora's affections for him, had seen himself seven years older, had found out Flora was telepathic, had discovered that he would soon have a little sibling, _and_ had heard his parents get engaged.

"It must be overwhelming," she pondered aloud, "but there are two things that will never change: how much your parents love you, and how much I love you." She hugged Luke tightly, hoping it would reassure him.

"I just never thought my life could get any better," Luke said after a moment, a bright smile spreading across his face as he snuggled back down into the covers.

"Even the best things in life can be improved upon," Flora said to him cheerfully. "And that's always a nice surprise."

"I like surprises," he smiled, closed his eyes and let out a stifled yawn.

Flora giggled.

"Flora?" His eyes were still closed.

"Yes?"

His reply was only that of a light snore. He had already fallen fast asleep.

Flora sighed, and carefully took off his hat and set it on the nightstand. "Surprise," she whispered to no one in particular. She laid her head onto her pillow and within minutes, had drifted off to sleep as well.

Several months later, after an official—and positive—paternity test, the sale of Claire's apartment and a merry wedding, the new family was still getting used to its fresh start. Claire, in particular, had a lot to get used to. For her, being married meant leaving her home and moving in, changing her name and, her biggest problem, sharing a bed. Not that she minded sharing it, especially not with the Professor, but she had an old sleeping habit that she just couldn't ever seem to shake. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't help but feel awkward every time she set out her robe by her side of the bed. If something were to happen, she _would_ need it, but it reminded her that she would soon be getting ready for bed. And that, of course, included getting undressed. Unlike most people however, she had a tendency to not put anything back on before sliding under the covers, and _that_ is what bothered her. Yes, it _had_ been Hershel who had deflowered her years before, and it _was_ he that she made love to at the hotel, but she still found it slightly uncomfortable to sleep that way in his presence every night. _Oh well,_ she told herself. _I'll get used to it eventually._

One particular evening a few months after the incident at the hotel, she wasn't feeling her best and had turned in early in hopes that whatever illness might be plaguing her might vanish under the cover of darkness. Unfortunately, it decided to stick around, causing her to wake up at some ungodly hour in the morning, nausea eating away at the pit of her stomach. Half awake and sensing her stomach's upcoming rebellion, she felt around for her robe and stumbled to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, Layton sat up groggily, his sleep disturbed by the sound of vomiting. "Claire? Are you alright, dear?" He knocked on the door and tried to rub the sleep from his eye. "It's 3:30 in the morning."

"I-I'm not sure," she replied weakly. "But I have an idea—" Her stomach cut her off.

Layton gave the door a worried look, understanding what she was trying to get at. "You don't think…"

"Only one way to know for sure," she sputtered, wiping her mouth. "If you could just—" Interruption. "—go to the convenience store and get a test. Please."

He nodded. "I'll be back shortly," he said reassuringly.

Finding comfort in his words, Claire kept herself hunched over the toilet and took deep breathes, trying to calm her roiling insides. Almost twenty minutes later, she heard him again.

"I'm sorry I took so long," he apologized, frantically going through his plastic bag. "I went as quickly as the law would allow." To be truthful, he had actually gone a little over. "May I come in?"

"Yeah," she said, nodding. "Please."

He slowly opened the door and came in, the tiny package in hand. "Your face is flushed," he observed, a hint of worry more than obvious in his voice.

"I know," was her soft reply.

Setting the package on the countertop, he bent over and gently hugged her from behind. "Tell me when you're finished, alright?" With that, he left, closing the door behind him.

A few minutes later, she emerged and with her eyes glued to the ground, played anxiously with her hair. "It'll have registered in a few minutes," she mumbled, her gaze still aimed at the floor.

Smiling warmly, the Professor sat on the bed. "Come here," he beckoned gently, patting the cushions next to him.

She came and without second thought, took a seat on his lap instead. "I'm not ready for this," she said.

"You're trembling…"

"I'm nervous," she admitted. "I'm not sure if I want this just yet."

"Remember a few months ago when I said you were a strong woman?" he asked, rubbing soothing circles into her back with his thumb. "I meant it. With every fiber of my being."

The corners of her mouth curved up into a small smile. "Thank you Hershel, but I still—" Her face, which had been regaining its ruddy glow, drained as she rushed back to the toilet.

Following behind, Layton noticed two small blue marks on the test's screen as it lay in the sink. "Oh my…"

Claire couldn't take it anymore, overwhelmed, she lowered her head, tears trickling from the corners of her eyes. "I can't do this," she sobbed. "I can't go through this again."

"Yes, you can." He pulled a small piece of toilet paper from the roll and dabbed her lips. "I have faith in you, Claire. The children do, too."

She threw her arms around his neck. "Tell me you'll be there. I can't do it without you!"

"I will," he affirmed, stroking her hair. "I swear it. I'll help you through any hardship you might face, no matter how difficult the fight."

Holding her head, she said, "I need to lie down." She slowly wandered back to the bed and laid down, looking up at the ceiling.

His mouth twisted into a discontented grimace. "Is there something I could do for you?"

She shook her head slowly. "Just let me sleep…" Her plans were interrupted by a knock on the door.

The Professor got up and opened the door to see Luke in his pajamas, clinging tightly to his teddy bear. "Professor," he said softly, barely lifting his eyes, "I had a bad dream. Do you think I could come in?"

The man's eyes wandered back to Claire. "I would love for you to do so, Luke, but your mother's not feeling very well at the moment."

"I'll be quiet," he promised. "You won't even know I'm here."

He sighed. "Alright."

The boy scurried in, frantically checking over his shoulder. Slowly approaching the bed, he turned back to his mentor. "Is she sick?" he whispered.

He nodded. "I'm afraid so. However, the illness should pass soon, so there really isn't anything to worry about."

Unfortunately, his words of comfort came too late; Luke was already at Claire's side, bombarding her with questions. "What's wrong? Will you need to go to the hospital? You _will_ be okay, right?"

Despite her considerable level of discomfort, she gave a small laugh. "I'll be fine, sweetie. I promise. But there _is_ something you can do to help me."

"Anything, Mum! Just name it!"

"Unlike you, I don't have a teddy," she said with a slight smile.

Immediately understanding what she wanted, Luke went around to the other side of the bed and carefully climbed up next to her. "I don't mind being your teddy," he said cutely.

She rolled over on her side and pulling him close, snuggled with him. "Thank you, Luke." She was quiet for a moment. "It looks like you'll be getting your baby sibling after all."

"Really?" he asked excitedly and a little too loudly.

"Luke!"

The boy winced when the Professor said his name. "Sorry, Professor."

"It's alright, Hershel," reassured Claire. "He's only a boy." She looked back at her son. "Yes, really. Now are you ready to be a big help?"

Luke nodded vigorously in response.

"Could you think of some names for the baby? I want you to be a part of this, too."

He was nearly struck dumb with shock. "You really mean it?"

She giggled. "Of course I do!"

"I'll have to really think about that," he said, thoughtfully stroking his chin. "I want it to have the perfect name!"

"That's my boy," she said sweetly, ruffling his hair. Her stomach gurgled. With a "please excuse me," she had bolted out of bed and returned to the bathroom.

Luke winced and felt his own stomach churn as he listened to her retching. "Is this going to happen a lot from now on?" he uncertainly asked Layton.

"Most likely, though we can't really be sure." He frowned. "I can only hope this doesn't throw her hormones too out of whack," he commented softly, more to himself.

"What was that, Professor?" asked the boy, tilting his head slightly. "I didn't catch that."

"Nothing," he replied. "I was just thinking aloud."

"Alright." Luke knew the Professor had a habit of doing it, so he didn't make too much of it.

Layton sighed. _I _really_ hope it doesn't…_

Unfortunately for Layton, life just loves to prove people wrong.


	5. The Beach

Chapter 5: The Beach

As the months passed, Layton found himself thinking about what it must have been like when she was expecting Luke. If the mood swings were _this_ bad with him there, what must they have been like with him _gone?_ Once or twice, he even caught himself wondering if everything she was going through was normal. Did _all_ pregnant women make a pastime of consuming entire tubs of ice cream and oddly-mixed dishes? Shouldn't she be eating healthily? For the most part, he merely shrugged the questions off. After all, what did he know about the odd side effects of pregnancy? However, her new diet still bothered him. Particularly, it was her nearly constant desire for poorly-made Mexican dishes.

"All I asked for was a burrito!" the now more-noticeably pregnant Claire cried, jabbing a finger into Layton's chest. "Don't you care? At _all_?"

The Professor rubbed his temples. "But you said you wanted a taco…" He tried his hardest to keep a level head, having already put up with this for the past three months, and handed the food to Luke, who seemed overjoyed at the fact he now had a second taco for himself.

Within a few short moments, Claire's eyes lit up. "I've got an idea!" she said happily, an excited smile spreading across her face. "Let's go to the beach!"

Layton gave an exasperated sigh. "Are you sure you aren't going to change your mind when we're halfway there? Because if you are, we could find something else to do…"

"I've been carrying this _thing_ around for months," Claire protested. "The least you could do is take us there!" Claire batted her eyelashes in a pleading fashion, hoping she might get through to him.

He sighed in defeat. "Alright. As long as you don't push yourself to hard," he said, concerned, placing a hand over her swollen stomach.

"I'll be fine," she insisted as she pushed his hand away. "Stop worrying so much."

Once at the beach, it was only a few minutes before Claire was leaning over a trash can, complaining about her seasickness.

"But we aren't even on the water," Layton mentioned, one arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"This is torture," she complained, once again feeling the uncomfortable churning in her stomach. "I can't go anywhere without—" Her stomach interrupted. Claire groaned, raising her head slightly. "Not to mention the awful taste in my mouth."

Layton couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "Perhaps it might help if you ate things that tasted better to begin with." He reached into the pocket of his swimming trunks and took out a small bottle of mouthwash. "In any case," he said, holding it out to her, "I figured you might need this."

"Thank you." She sighed. "I'm really sorry, Hershel. I really don't mean to be such a pain. There's just so much I have to monitor and be wary of now. It's stressful."

He laughed. "I could only imagine! But there _is_ one thing I would like to correct," he said softly. "You are never a pain. A handful at times, perhaps, but at least it keeps me on my toes."

Her cheeks went slightly pink to accompany her sheepish smile as she hugged him. Still not having completely recovered from the spell of nausea, she found herself bending over the garbage can once more. Her face flushed with humiliation, and frustrated tears collected at the corners of her eyes.

Layton pulled her close and hushed her softly. "It's alright, Claire," he crooned, gently stroking her hair. "I promised I would be here for you, and I intend to keep that promise, no matter how many times your stomach acts up."

He smiled as she held him tightly in response, but his thoughts quickly turned elsewhere. After all, Claire wasn't the only one who didn't know what to expect. He frowned and sighed softly. "Claire?"

"Hm?"

He wasn't quite sure he wanted to respond; the question was still forming in his mind. "Was it really worth all of this? All the suffering you've gone through…" he said quietly, gently clasping his hands around her own. "It seems like such a hefty fine to pay."

"Hershel…"

"I'm truly sorry, Claire."

"Hershel, please," she said sweetly, a warm smile spreading across her lips. "I'm sure everything will pay off in the end."

"But," the Professor protested, "it doesn't change the fact that you're miserable! And…" He looked away, unable to help feeling that his private thoughts and worries were showing through. "You'll hate me when you get to the hospital."

Claire sighed softly and shook her head. "I could never hate you."

"It's one thing to say it now," he replied uncertainly. "But to look me in the eyes and tell me then is another matter entirely!" Worry was a feeling he had almost forgotten. Granted, a thought occasionally bothered him, but there was something unfamiliar about its heavy burden that prevented him from putting his thoughts in order.

Claire put her hand on his, smiling, and his anxiety began to melt away. "I'm just nervous," he admitted after a quiet moment. "I've never really been a father before."

"There's nothing to worry about," she comforted. "You did a fine job raising Luke." She looked over at their son, who was happily splashing around in the waves.

"But what if the child doesn't like me?" he thought aloud.

She laughed at the very idea. "What are you saying? Of course she'll like you," she assured, putting a delicate hand on his shoulder. "Why wouldn't she?"

The Professor sighed in defeat and cracked a small smile. "Thank you, Claire," he said softly, gently brushing his lips against her cheek and pulling her into a tender embrace.

The couple looked to the water where Luke and Flora were swimming, splashing and diving through the briny waves. "I wonder how the children are taking it," Layton pondered aloud as he watched.

Claire smiled warmly. "I'm sure they're both thrilled. Luke, especially." She laughed quietly.

She was right. Luke had become more and more excited as the baby's due date became closer. Not to mention he had become even closer with Flora over the past few months. For Luke, life was better than perfect.

The boy adjusted his light blue swimming trunks as he watched Flora was now sifting through mounds of sand in search of seashells. He has always known she was a nice-looking girl, maybe even pretty. But something was different now. Looking at her from a distance, he might possibly even say she was beautiful. But then again, it might have been the bathing suit getting to him. His cheeks darkened a few shades of red, and Flora looked up just in time to see it.

"Luke?" she laughed. "What's gotten into you all of a sudden?"

Luke smiled sheepishly but kept his thoughts to himself. Or rather, he tried to.

Flora blushed, knowing full well why he was blushing, and went a little red herself. "Luke!"

"Um…" His voice failed him in this state of utter embarrassment, and he let out a small squeak instead. He blinked, trying his best to think on his feet, and following his first instinct, he hit the water, splashing Flora, before turning and running in the opposite direction.

Much to Luke's surprise, she laughed and gave chase. "So that's how it is?" she called as she splashed back at him.

"You won't get me that easily!" Luke laughed, turning back towards her. He sprang at her, knocking her into the shallows, his arms still wrapped around her shoulders. "Gotcha!"

"And what do you think you're doing?" a stern voice said from behind them. Luke's smile melted as he looked up to see that Layton had come up behind them while they were playing.

The Professor's disapproving frown broke into a smile. "Starting the fun without us?" Laughing, he scooped the boy up in his arms and ruffled his hair.

Luke giggled gleefully, every now and then letting out cries of "Stop it, Professor!" or "Uncle!" in between bursts of laughter.

Claire shook her head at the two as she helped Flora onto her feet. "Sorry about that," she sighed. "He really ought to be more careful."

"It's fine," Flora laughed softly, turning her head to look at Luke, who was now on the Professor's shoulders. "Lemme down!" the boy was squealing.

"Not until you're a proper gentleman!" replied the Professor teasingly. "And a proper gentleman—" He heaved Luke off his shoulders and playfully dunked him in the water. "—does _not_ tackle a lady!"

The two continued like this for a while as Flora and Claire watched from the water's edge. "They're such children!" Claire laughed, shaking her head.

Flora smiled as she revisited the past year in her mind. "It almost reminds me of when I first met them. They're so happy."

"Just watching them makes me wish I could jump in with them," Claire responded, placing one hand on her stomach and the other on Flora's shoulder.

"It won't be too much longer now," the girl replied, still watching them romp in the waves.

"I hope so." Her mind wandered. _I also hope what Hershel said about the hospital isn't true,_ Claire thought to herself.


	6. Welcome to the Family

Chapter 6: Welcome to the Family

Three months later, the four had crammed themselves into the Laytonmobile and were speeding to local hospital just as the sun was going down.

"Can't you drive any faster?" Claire cried anxiously, the fingers of her left hand wrapped tightly around the edge of the upholstery. They clenched as she felt another wave of contractions ripple through her.

Nervous beads of sweat ran down the Professor's face. "I'm going as fast as I can!" he replied, taking a quick glance back at his wife and Flora in the backseat.

"Professor," said Luke quietly to him. "You said that childbirth is a beautiful thing, something to be celebrated." In his mind's eye he could still see the pained, almost wild expression on Claire's face. "Mum doesn't seem to agree…"

"I need you to support your mother right now," replied the Professor in a hushed tone. "We can discuss this later."

The boy turned a little in his seat and looked back at her. "You doing alright, Mum?" he inquired timidly.

Her response was a short string of vile curses that made him shrink back in his seat.

"Don't worry, Claire," said Layton. "It will only be a few more miles."

She whimpered softly. "We're not going to make it, Hershel…"

"We _will_ make it!" He pressed the gas pedal down harder.

Terrified, Luke clung to the seat. "Professor, I'm sure that this is completely irrelevant, but the speed limit says eighty kilometers an hour and we're going one hundred and twenty…"

"You're damn right it's irrelevant!" Claire growled. "Now drive!"

The boy winced at her language and returned to staring out the window as the world sped by, hoping it wouldn't be too much longer.

Thankfully for Luke, it wasn't much longer before Layton pulled into the parking lot. Luke and Flora both scrambled out of the car, making way for the Professor, who picked up the unhappy woman and carried her in.

Struggling to keep up with them, the children followed. They nearly got lost a time or two but were quickly redirected by bustling hospital workers. Eventually, they found themselves in Claire's birthing room, standing a fair distance away from her bed and cringing as she yelled. Layton didn't have to try very hard to convince them to wait on the chairs outside the room.

Luke bounced uneasily on the soft cushion. "I'm scared for her, Flora," he said quietly, moisture collecting in the corners of his eyes. "She must hurt so much right now…"

"I-I'm sure she'll be alright," said Flora shakily, trying to convince herself as well. It had been a long time since she had seen anyone in so much pain.

He put his head on her shoulder and hugged her reassuringly. He yawned, though he felt guilty that he was able to be tired at a time like this. It was already well past his bedtime, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep his eyes open. Soon, he was fast asleep, dreaming uneasily of the hours to come.

He awoke several hours later at Flora's prodding. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he sat up, lifting his head off her chest. "Hmm?"

"The Professor has something to say," she whispered, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. She then looked up eagerly at Layton, waiting for the news.

Layton smiled. "There's someone we want you to meet."

Excited, the two got up and, holding hands, followed him back to the room, trying their hardest to keep quiet as to not wake the rest of the world from its deep slumber. The Professor slowly opened the door, revealing a small, cozy-looking room.

Luke slowly led Flora in, and he found himself gazing at the walls and pictures, amazed that he hadn't noticed the warm colors and atmosphere earlier, that they had been swallowed entirely by the chaos of the night which had passed only hours before.

As he approached the bed, his eyes were immediately drawn to the small pink bundle that Claire held close to her heart. It stung a little not to see the airy blue he had been expecting, but he was still convinced otherwise. Maybe the hospital had just run out of boy blankets. Flora gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. He returned the gesture and leaned carefully on the bed.

"Mum?" he whispered. "Is that the baby?"

Smiling her same familiar and gentle smile, she slowly nodded. "Your brand-new baby sister."

He tried to smile, but the corners of his mouth seemed stuck. Deep down, he wished there were some sort of noise in the room to cover what he could have sworn was the tiny tinkling of his heart breaking. It was supposed to be a boy; his older self had said so.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" she said softly as she put her palm on his cheek. "You aren't disappointed, are you?"

He shook his head slightly, trying to look convincing. After all, it would be cruel for him to reject the child after Claire had gone through so much to take care of her.

Seeing the disappointment in his eyes, she pulled him close and kissed his forehead. "Would you like to see her? I know she can't wait to meet her big brother."

"Alright," he replied quietly, taking Flora's hand once again.

_It's alright_, he heard her voice say. _Just give her a chance. Maybe you'll like her._

Claire adjusted the little bundle so that a small head could be seen poking out from under the blanket. The baby yawned and squinted up at them with dark, familiar eyes as her mother lovingly tended to her few wisps of hair.

Layton sat next to the happy pair and smiled, taking in every bit of the scene. "She's got your nose," he observed quietly, gently stroking his daughter's cheek.

Claire looked up at him and giggled softly. "But those are definitely your eyes."

Chuckling, the Professor put his forehead to hers and whispered something in her ear. She smiled and nodded in reply. "Luke," she said. "Do you remember that special job I gave you a few months ago?"

Confused for a moment, the boy merely stared.

"The name?" she hinted.

It all came rushing back: the nightmare, visiting their room and finally, the promise he had made. He nodded vigorously.

"Have you got anything in mind?"

He looked away guiltily; all of the names he had been considering were boy names. He frantically racked his brain for a name, any name, and he said the first thing that came to his mind. "Elizabeth."

Claire raised her eyebrows. "Elizabeth?"

Luke nodded. "We could call her Lizzy if we want to."

"Well, I for one," said Layton as he ran his finger along an exceptionally long strand of the baby's hair, "feel that it's a lovely name."

Looking over at Layton and back to Luke, she thoughtfully twirled the edge of her blanket around her finger. "As long as you're okay with it, Hershel," she finally said. "Elizabeth it is."

Uncertainly, Luke drew nearer to the tiny face that poked out from the covers. "Hey there, Lizzy," he said quietly. "It's your big brother, Luke."

She squirmed a little and stared at him. And though there wasn't a trace of a smile on her lips, the way she looked at him made it clear that she was.

He couldn't help but smile back. "It's a big world out here, but I'm sure you'll love it."

He laughed when she sneezed, and he brought Flora, who had been seemingly keeping her distance, up to the bedside as well. "Go ahead," he urged gently. "Say hello."

Nervously, she reached out and touched Lizzy's hand. "Hello there," she said softly. "Welcome to the family, Elizabeth."

The Professor couldn't help but notice how ill at ease she was. "Is there something wrong, my dear?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing's really _wrong_," she said slowly. "I've just never been this close to a newborn before."

"Well there's nothing to be afraid of," he chuckled. As if to prove his point, he held out his arms to Claire. "May I?"

Placing one last kiss on Lizzy's forehead, she reluctantly handed her over. The infant settled in her father's arms, crinkled her nose and let out a small whine that quickly became a loud, unhappy squeal.

Layton quickly handed her back and uneasily pulled at the brim of his hat.

Unsuccessful in her attempts to calm her, Claire looked up. "Don't worry," she said softly, slowly rocking Lizzy in her arms. "She's probably just hungry."

Eager to help, Luke tugged lightly at her sleeve. "Could I please hold her, Mum?" he asked enthusiastically. "I promise to be careful."

She thought for a moment, her gaze shifting from her son to the unhappy bundle in her arms. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt," she replied. "But take a seat first. And be _very_ careful."

Excited, the boy climbed up next to her on the bed and held out his arms for the incoming baby. She squirmed and waved her arms in protest, continuing her whining.

Hushing her gently, Luke stretched out a finger and lightly poked her nose. She squealed and reached up, grabbing ahold of his outstretched finger. To everyone's great surprise, her crying quieted to the point where it was no more than a soft whimper.

Giggling softly, Flora leaned on the bed. "It looks like somebody's already taken quite a liking to you."

"I hope so," the boy replied quietly, smiling to himself. "We're going to be together for an awfully long time." He leaned over and gently put his cheek to that of his infant sister. Lizzy let out a small noise that Luke could've sworn was delight. His smile widened and quickly twisted into a puzzled grimace as he went to stroke her cheek. He gave his finger another light tug, attempting to free it. Nothing.

"Uh, Lizzy?" he said with a slightly uncomfortable laugh. "You can let go now." Another small tug. Still, his finger remained prisoner to the bright-eyed newborn. He lifted her hand a litte, examining it. "There's got to be a release button on here somewhere…"

Claire let out a quiet laugh. "You'll just have to wait for a bit," she said. "She doesn't quite know how to let go yet."

"Are you serious?" he whined in disbelief. "She's already got ten fingers of her own; she doesn't need mine!"

His mother laughed again. "Alright." She took her back, gently opening Lizzy's tiny fist.

He blushed sheepishly. "Thanks, Mum." Flexing his recovered finger, he couldn't help but comment, "That's quite a grip she's got there."

But Claire didn't seem to hear; she was too preoccupied with rocking her little daughter. "My little angel," she cooed softly.

In his head, it would never add up as to why an angel would require a gorilla's grip, but he quickly pushed that thought to the back of his mind. _She_ is_ pretty cute,_ he thought with a small smile. _I guess having a little sister around won't be such a bad thing after all._

* * *

**Merry Christmas from Otakubox and Chibiryu!!!**


	7. Getting Along

Chapter 7: Getting Along

"Angel my bum," Luke mumbled under his breath as he made a futile attempt to study his history. It had only been a couple weeks since the newborn Elizabeth came home, and Luke was already eager for her to leave. How could such an innocent little girl make so many awful screeching noises? Sure, he had put up with Lizzy's tantrums for the first few days, but now he was just tired of it, in both senses of the word. Her crying was even louder at night, making it almost impossible for him, let alone anyone else, to sleep.

On top of that, Luke figured there wasn't a single moment the baby didn't need something. First it would be food, then a diaper change and, occasionally, she would be found sobbing in her crib because her blanket wasn't wrapped to her liking; the list could go on. When Luke would try to ask Claire a question, her answer would always be the same: "Not now, Luke, I need to go take care of Lizzy. Maybe later." Oftentimes he had already figured it out for himself by the time she got back to him.

The boy's train of thought was interrupted by Claire, who was standing across the room with the wailing infant in her arms. "Luke?" she pleaded. "Help?"

With a long sigh, the boy reluctantly stood up and crossed the room. He knew the drill. He stretched out his left index finger, Lizzy's personal favorite, and offered it to her. She immediately grabbed onto it, and, as always, her crying slowed to soft hiccups. "Can't you find her a toy or something?" Luke questioned. "I kind of need my finger back."

"I'm sorry, Luke," Claire sighed. "It's the only thing that will keep her quiet."

Luke let out a long sigh. "You should be glad!" his mother said, attempting to cheer him up. "Very few can pacify a baby with a single finger!"

"I guess," Luke responded solemnly. He paused. "She doesn't like me better, does she?" he whined. "You're her mum, so why doesn't she stay quiet around you?"

"Babies are strange that way; you can never tell what they're thinking." With her free hand, Claire gave the boy a soft pat on the head. "In fact, I remember someone else who was difficult to please…"

Luke's eyes lit up. "Really? Who?"

Claire laughed sweetly. "You, of course! And especially when it came to food! I could only get you to nurse when I had eaten certain things. Chocolate in particular. And absolutely no carrots."

The boy laughed as well. "I still don't like carrots!"

"I remember the first time you wouldn't eat… I was so afraid. But when I took you to see the doctor, he said that some babies are just particular." She smiled at him. "I'm just glad you liked chocolate."

Luke smiled in return, his grin growing as he heard a light snore coming from the tightly-wrapped bundle in his mother's arms. "Finally," Luke sighed, pulling his finger out of Lizzy's grasp.

Claire laughed softly and whispered, "Why don't we go see what the Professor's up to? I'm sure he'd be glad to spend a little time with his daughter while she's still sleeping."

Luke nodded enthusiastically and followed the mother to Layton's personal study. "Professor," Luke whispered to him through the door. "Look who came to visit!"

Layton looked up from the papers on his desk and smiled. The boy, taking his father's warm smile as permission to enter, bounced into the room. "She's asleep now, so we thought that you might like to hold her when she isn't crying!" Luke grinned.

The Professor chuckled quietly. "I suppose it's worth a shot."

Claire approached his side and carefully laid the infant in his arms. A sniffle, a wince, and an unhappy squirm later, she was already back in her mother's arms. There was not a doubt in his mind; his suspicions were confirmed.

"Hershel, don't worry yourself," Claire said in an attempt to soothe him.

"No, Claire," he replied bluntly. "I can't keep lying to myself, so I'm facing the facts: my own daughter doesn't like me!" His voice became strained, momentarily losing his gentlemanly composure.

"That isn't true, Hershel. You know better than to come to irrational conclusions like that."

"But if it's so irrational then why am I the only person she can never be content with?"

Claire thought carefully for a moment, her gaze drifting to Lizzy. "I'm… not quite sure," she slowly replied. "But I know that she's not going to go on with life 'hating' you. You're her father. And you are far too kind for anyone to hate."

He was quiet for a moment. "Do you really think so?" Layton asked, his cheeks tinged with the slightest hint of embarassment.

"I know so," Claire insisted, smiling brightly. She leaned over and gave him a light kiss. "You've done a fine job raising Luke," she continued in a whisper. "I know you can do just as well with Lizzy." She could see a little glimmer in his eyes as the corners of his mouth turned upward, his worries dissipating.

"May I?" the Professor asked, holding out his arms. She gently placed the squirming babe into his arms. She whined unpleasantly, and Layton rocked her gently. "Now, Elizabeth," he chuckled, "I'm your father, so that means I'm going to have to hold you once in a while!" Lizzy's whines slowly and eventually transitioned to a softer gurgle.

Claire and Luke both grinned, glad to see Layton more at ease. "Who knows?" Luke chirped. "Maybe this means I won't be the only one who can calm her down!"

His mother laughed. "I wouldn't quite count on it just yet."


End file.
